Blood in the Snow
by OutlastTheDark
Summary: Security Agent for the venerable Schnee family. At first it sounded like a cushy job; well paying, and certainly one to brag about. But when Jaune Arc finds himself stuck with the youngest daughter of the wealthy family, he'll be forced to call in to question just how wise a decision he's made, and just how far he would be willing to go to see her out of harms way.(Hiatus-Sum 20)
1. Chapter 1: Assignments

Blood in the Snow Chapter 1: Assignment

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**Yo, all. I've been reading a lot of White Knight lately, and as always happens, I ended up getting attached to the ship like the annoying little barnacle that I am. And this was the result. This is the abominable result of that. I figured "alright, what if you threw the cast of RWBY into a more modern day, 'realistic' setting'. Do enjoy, and let me know if I should continue!**

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_"We sleep soundly in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would do us harm..._" - Winston Churchill/George Orwell

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"Sector 3-b."

"Contact."

"Copy, reference the ruined blue barrel left've the target... Approximately two mils."

"Confirmed, target is a caucasian male dressed in all black, has a caucasian female hostage at knifepoint kneeling at his feet." A gloved hand brushed a stray blonde hair away before a cobalt eye returned to it's place behind the scope, "Uh, two additional combatants to his 10 and 2 o'clock-..."

"Y'got 'em... Check parallax and mil."

"1.0, clean."

"Confirmed... Check level..." A young man with ginger hair prompted, his binoculars held as steady as could be as he leaned back in his chair, "Holdover, 4.3... No wind, no known collateral; spotter ready."

"Shooter ready."

"Send it..."

The grass swayed violently as a thunderous crack rattled through the valley, crescendoing in a loud clang as brass met steel in a brilliant display of sparks that showered the dirt below like smoldering rain.

"...Hit confirmed."

It was only after those words that Jaune Arc nimbly flicked the safety of his rifle on with his thumb, leaning away from the scope with a soft breath.

"So, what's up?" The ginger-haired man mumbled down to the blonde who still lay in the lush grass of the field, giving him a friendly tap on the shoulders with his binoculars.

"Hmm?"

"You don't usually have us practice engagements from this distance." The ginger pressed, "I get that practice makes perfect, but we'll hardly be throwing lead that far. What's goin' on?"

"Guess I'm just out of it. Sorry, Cardin."

"You aren't allowed to be touching targets that far out while you're 'out of it', Jauney-boy. Makes me look bad." The ginger-haired young man, Cardin mumbled, "Spit it out, what's up? This about?-..."

"That; yeah... Thought something different would get my mind off've tomorrow," Jaune brought himself to his full height, brushing the stray strands of grass from his old jeans and Pumpkin Pete's hoodie, "Y'wanna take a few shots?"

"Nah, I'm cool." Cardin shot a knowing look at the lanky man, "Gotta say though, you're pretty confident thinking anything short of a brick to the head is gonna get our minds off of tomorrow."

"Guess if you were feeling charitable you could say that I'm just pretending to be an optimist."

"I'll say."

Jaune shot his friend an inquisitive glance.

"I'm just saying, it takes a hell of an optimist to think that somebody with a penchant for airsickness can be a Counter-Action Bodyguard for the Schnee Family."

"Hey! Airsickness is a-"

"Very common problem!... Yeah, yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night, man."

Jaune chuckled, giving Cardin a friendly punch on the shoulder, eliciting a grin from the ginger-haired man.

A few more verbal jabs were traded, and a few extra shots made on Jaune's part, before the duo began the slow process of packing away their stuff, Jaune lingering every so often as his thoughts seemed to find ways to consume him again and again, until eventually, Cardin found the silence bearable no longer.

"So..." He began, lightly tapping the old wooden table bearing the brunt of all of their equipment.

"So?"

"Lookin' forward to it?"

"Hm?"

"T'seeing her."

"Oh," A pregnant silence filled the air, only broken by the melodic sound of brass hitting the gravel as Jaune unloaded his rifle, "I guess. Being terrified technically counts as looking forward to something, right?"

"Only on your wedding day."

The blonde couldn't resist letting a small grin crawl it's way onto his face as he finished packing up his rifle and binoculars, despite the obvious discomfort swimming just beneath his cobalt blue eyes.

"Hey now, Jauney-boy, don't look at me that." Cardin gave his comrade a swift thump on the back, "She won't even know it's you under that mask."

"You can say that again." Jaune agreed, "Not that she ever gave me the time of day, even back then."

"See? Now you're getting it...kinda. Nothing to worry about!" Cardin concluded as he fished his car keys from his pocket, merrily spinning them around his index finger.

"Yeah, guess I'm just all nerves. First time I've seen her since she left our school, y'know." Jaune slung his gun-bag over his shoulder, shaking his head, "I mean, that's a pretty long time!"

"We graduated like a year ago, cool your jets, Jauney-boy..." The ginger pointed out, "Besides, like you said, she barely even knew you existed back then, and what're the chances you'll be assigned to her? The Schnee Family's made up of- what- five members or something?"

"Yeah. Three kids, the Chairman, and his wife."

"Exaaactly!" An impressively thick arm was flung around Jaune's shoulders, pressing him against his friend, "Now, do the math with me-"

"You mean 'for you', right?"

"Yeah, ha-ha. But really, it's like a 25% chance you'll even be assigned to her."

"Maybe I _should_ do the math for you."

"You always used to."

"Didn't have much of a choice back then." Jaune pointed out as the two of them reached Cardin's old pickup, the former tossing his rifle case into the hatchback, "If I didn't you would've just locked me into my own locker for a few hours again."

"And look how smart you are now!"

Jaune shook his head. Typical Cardin. Ah well, someone had to be the muscle. "Smart enough to know we're crazy for doing this?"

"Just about, yeah."

* * *

"You are Counter-Action Bodyguards; CAB for short. My name's Qrow, your Commanding Officer, et cetera, et cetera..."

A slurred voice bounced off the uninvitingly cold stone walls of the Schnee Dust Company armory, the disinterest of its owner clearer than glass as he droned on with the enthusiasm of a bored schoolboy.

When Jaune and Cardin, along with about 8 other members of what no doubt made up the Counter-Action Bodyguard force, had first set foot on Schnee Dust Company grounds it was safe to say they had expected some finely dressed, military man waiting for them. Instead, they found this...specimen, a raven-haired man in his late 30s with striking red eyes that- in such stark contrast to his disinterested tone- seemed to bore into the gathered agents before them with an almost eerie sense of focus.

To say he was improperly dressed would be a depressing understatement, Jaune thought as he casually leaned back in his chair, toying with a ballpoint pen. This 'Qrow' was such a far cry from the anticipated pressed suit with stark white regalia that would make a snow-hare green with jealousy. In fact, he honestly reminded Jaune of a homeless vagrant, standing before the rows of tables clad in little more than some old dusty dress pants and a half unbuttoned shirt that looked just about as old as the bottle of whiskey he was casually swirling in his grip.

"Fitting acronym, since you'll be responsible for transporting _oh-so venerable_ the Schnee family from destination to destination safely, as well as providing general security for both the Schnee manor and offices." He explained as he clinked his bottle upon one of the many steel tables lining the room, "Oh, and that also counts wherever else our snow-haired charges decide to stick their rich little thumbs."

"So we're acting as 24/7 armed security?" One of the braver prospects inquired; a young man with a rather impressive head of black hair, with a violet streak down his bangs.

He would've honestly looked a bit feminine, to the point that at a glance Jaune would have assumed him to be a young woman, if it hadn't been for the full black and white fatigues and plate carrier that encapsulated his torso like a protective shell, accentuating the underlying muscle tone of his still exposed biceps.

"Essentially." Qrow leaned against a nearby gun locker, a wry grin flitting across his unshaven face as he was met with a host of raised brows, "Don't give me that look, I already know what you're gonna ask; 'Why not just call us bodyguards? Why Counter-Action Bodyguards'? Am I in the ballpark here?"

He was met with little more than a scare few shrugs from one or two of the recruits.

"Y'aren't just responsible for making sure that the Schnee brats are alright," Qrow continued on, looking about as bored with his own speech as any man could, "You're also responsible for apprehending or neutralizing whatever crazy bastard decides they wanna try their hand at albino hunting."

"The Schnees aren't albino, Sir."

"Not the point."

Qrow took a quick swig from his bottle, nearly clocking out one of the recruits sitting just a hair too close to the drunkard in the process.

"So yeah... Uh, where was I?... Right! Most other bodyguard's duties end once the asset is out of harm's way, but you all get the magical job of continuing the engagement until your VIPs have left the vicinity, or the hostile element is neutralized. You'll also be responsible for on-site trauma-care and the general health of your new pet lemmings." He casually tapped his bottle against the edge of the desk where Jaune sat, his crimson eyes lingering on he and Cardin for a few agonizingly long moments, "And when all else fails, and you're backed against a corner, your thick skulls are the shield that'll be there to stop the bullet meant for them."

You could hear a pin drop.

"So essentially, it like bodyguardin' on hard-mode."

A few wary glances were exchanged throughout the group. This unkempt disaster masquerading as a man certainly had a way of making the concept of fleeting mortality sound like no big deal.

Of course they were prepared to throw themselves into the line of fire. It sort of came with the job, after all. But this man? This man had a certain way with words, Jaune concluded with a shiver, blunt as they may be.

"I'd like to say that they're a family that keeps out of the limelight and that they never throw themselves into the proverbial- and literal- line of fire, but then I'd just be lyin' to you."

A few laughs echoed through the room as at least a bit of the mounting tension seemed to melt away.

"In other words, you'd better expect that to be going to a lot of TV Station visits and fancy-ass Galas. A lot've _pointless_-..." Qrow grunted, as of a particularly bad memory flashed across his mind's eye, "Other than that, your day-to-day duties'll vary considerably depending on which family member you're assigned, but public appearances are a pretty regular occurrence for all've'm. So I hope you like fancy suits and tucking a pistol on your person so discreetly you'll be walking funny for a few hours."

"Sir?" Jaune began, raising his hand.

Qrow's gaze snapped back towards him with terrifying speed, prompting an uncomfortable wince from the young man, "We aren't in a classroom, Blondie, just spit it out."

"I was under the impression we, uh-...we would be wearing masks and helmets."

"Normally, yeah." The drunkard conceded, eliciting a hopeful grin from the blonde, "But d'you think you're gonna get away with wearing a balaclava and helmet on the red carpet?"

"Is that allow-"

"Shaddup."

"Yessir..."

Qrow resisted the urge to roll his eyes back into his skull. Why did the weird ones always have to be the ones to pipe up?

"So with that little gem've a question, I would say that just about covers the remainder of your orientation. For those of you that didn't listen to a damn word; just don't shoot the ones with the white hair, and you're golden." The drunkard clapped his hands, taking a long breath, "Now, does anyone have any _intelligent_ questions before I send y'all off to the white wolves themselves? Any last rites? Unfulfilled desires?"

"Uh, yessir," Jaune's own hand lingered in the air momentarily before it shot back down as he registered his mistake, "How exactly will the selection work? Is it like...some sorta lotto or?-..."

"You don't need to worry your pretty little head about that at all, Blondie." The raven-haired man hummed knowingly, balancing back on his worn heels as he tapped a piece of paper haphazardly taped to a nearby weapon locker, "I've already chosen who'll be assigned to who."

"Based on?..."

"Whatever I thought would be funny."

"Remind me how exactly you got yourself a position as the head of Schnee Security?"

"I wrote a lot of letters to Santa asking for a job with the bitchiest family on the planet." Qrow flashed the group a near sadistic smirk, "Merry Christmas, kids. Come get your callsigns and assignments."

"Here's hoping they come with a gift receipt." Cardin mumbled, pulling himself out of his chair with a grunt, "C'mon Jauney-boy, let's go see which sucker we're stuck with."

Yeah, someone was a poor sucker here, and Jaune had a creeping suspicion that sucker had a head full of golden blonde hair and stupid ideas.

He strolled over to the locker, carefully making his way through the small crowd of recruits that had gathered around the assignment paper. Soft grumblings and approving hum filled the room as each and every recruit learned of their new charge, with one recruit in particular, the calm young man from before, even mumbling something along the lines of being assigned a fantastic fit.

And through it all Jaune fought to catch a glimpse of the assignment sheet, silently wondering just who he would be spending the foreseeable future with, standing by their side as their loyal protector.

Perhaps he would be assigned to the only male child, or even Jacque Schnee himself. It would certainly make sense, given that there were several female recruits that would suit the female Schnees far better than he, Cardin, or any of the other male recruits ever could.

But as he read the name on the paper, giving his eyes a good rub as he scanned over the outrageously over-designed parchment several times, he couldn't help but feel that someone, somewhere really had it out for him.

That name. The one singular name that he had hoped would be absent from the page jumped out at him like a bolt of lightning across the sky, giving front billing to his astoundingly tragic luck.

_'Jaune Arc, Callsign; Delta-2, Assigned to-'_

"Welp," Cardin's voice barely registered in Jaune's mind as he felt his throat close up with anxiety, "Guess we should make it a point to avoid visiting casinos anytime soon, huh, Jauney-boy?"

"Yeah... You can _definitely_ say that again."

_'Weiss Schnee.'_

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**So, how is it? Interesting at all? Worth continuing? Let me know, and thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2: The Heiress

Blood in the Snow Chapter 2: The Heiress

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**Heyo. I'm glad to see that people enjoyed the first chapter so much, and I'm excited to continue this storyline! I can't promise I know what the update schedule for this story will be, as I'm actively in college at the moment, but I would wager somewhere in the scope of every few weeks, if I'm not on vacation (which is how this second chapter got out so quickly). Anyways, enough incoherent ramblings, enjoy the chapter!**

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"Get out of my room, you heathen!"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me! Out!"

_Thump!_

"Ow! Miss Schnee, I'm just here to- Ow! Quit it!"

In Jaune's line of work, the risk of violence was omnipresent. He was more than prepared to face both it, and it's aftermath, at a moment's notice. Drunks? Business rivals? Disgruntled former employees? All were prospective threats to his client; all had the potential for violence. Violence that he, in accordance with his station, would place himself in the way of.

But the client being the violent one? Yeah, that was a new one.

"Quit it?!" A blush palette sailed through the air, bouncing off of Jaune's helmet, "You've the gall to wander into my personal chambers and say that?! I'll call security, I swear, I'll-"

"I _am_ security!"

"Right!" Weiss' shrill voice seemed to bounce off of the pale blue walls of her bedroom, assaulting Jaune's ears...while various other items assaulted his skull, "How could someone lanky and weak looking as you possibly protect anything larger than a teacup?!"

"Oh, look who's talking- OW! Was that a shoe?!" Jaune desperately dodged another incoming projectile, huffing and puffing as he took cover behind the young woman's glass tea table.

Glass tea table?... _Glass_ tea table?! Who has a freaking glass tea table in their?-

"Come back and face me, pervert!"

"I thought you wanted me to leave!"

_Crash_!

Shards of crystal, along with an accompanying candlestick holder, rained down next to Jaune's head in a brilliant display of light and sound.

And just like that, every ounce of courage that he had once possessed flew out the window like a startled cat.

"Delta-1! Backup; I need backup, Delta-1!"

"You're on your own, Jauney-boy!..." Cardin's own panicked voice echoed from just behind the open bedroom door. The desperation in his tone would've honestly been funny to Jaune if he weren't in more danger than the ginger, who had been cognizant enough to leap into cover at the first sign of trouble.

Against his better judgment, Jaune risked a small peek at his assailant, letting out a silent prayer that she possessed terrible aim.

She was just as he remembered her. Alabaster skin, with shimmering white hair that practically glittered in the harsh light of the room. The same, absolutely flawless face, the same dainty form that looked as if it would blow away in a harsh breeze...

The same lionness-like temperament.

"Weiss, if you'll just give us a second to explain, everything can-"

"Perverts!"

Here they were, a pair of six-foot-something men, dressed in full combat fatigues and wielding rifles, being overwhelmed and forced to take cover by a 5'3 young woman in a frilly white and blue dress.

Oh, how proud Momma Arc would be to see this.

"We're your new Counter-Action Bodyguards! We were assigned to you this morning by Qrow Branwen!" Jaune desperately held his SDC identification badge just above the relative safety of the tea table, in hopes that the next object Weiss threw would, at the very least, not be sharp.

"..."

"..."

"Oh," All of the anger seemed to vanish in an instant as Weiss slowly lowered her latest weapon, a stiletto heel, "Well, why didn't you just say so?"

"We did! Three times!"

"It's not exactly easy to hear you through those stupid masks."

"Apologies for the misunderstanding, then." Jaune mumbled as he pulled himself from behind the tea table, thankful his goggles were concealing his rolling eyes from Weiss' gaze.

"Take them off." The heiress rapped the heel of her shoe against her open palm as she strolled over to Jaune, "And the helmets too, while you're at it."

"Why, so she can concuss us?" Cardin complained as he hesitantly crawled out of cover.

"I...can't, Miss Schnee." Jaune carefully began, earning a raised brow from the heiress.

"Why?"

This was it. He had spent hours rehearsing for this. He knew it would be a problem eventually, now it was just a matter of putting that practice to work, "Your father has set restrictions on us that forbid us from removing our equipment while in your presence. I'm sure you understand."

Phew.

"There _is_ no such rule. Take off the helmet."

Dammit.

"Miss Schnee, I can assure you that-"

"If I recall correctly, my father employs you." Weiss' finely-manicured nail bounced harmlessly against the Kevlar plate covering Jaune's torso.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Which means you're employed by the Schnee family." The heiress gestured to herself, "I am a Schnee."

And she never let anyone forget it...

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Which means you're under contract to obey me," Weiss concluded, delivering another swift strike against Jaune's chest, "Now, take off that helmet!"

Jaune sighed as his hands slowly reached up for the latch securing the helmet to his head.

All that work he'd put into getting in. All those months of background checks, all those weeks of turmoil and strife in the Schnee training camps. All laid to waste the moment her beautiful sky-blue eyes settled upon his mug.

The moment she recognized him it would be over.

"...There," Weiss' voice filtered clearly into his ears as his helmet and balaclava relinquished their hold upon his skull, releasing his mop of golden blond hair, "Was that really so hard?"

"Eh?"

Weiss gave no response. Instead, she reached over to snatch the helmet away, inspecting it with clear disinterest.

Glancing back at Cardin, Jaune found the ginger had removed his helmet as well. He'd also somehow worked up the courage to stroll up next to his friend, though he looked like he was ready to cut and run at a moment's notice, should Weiss devolve to violence again.

"You...don't recognize me?" Jaune turned back to Weiss.

"Should I?" She mumbled disinterestedly, casually tossing the helmet back to its owner.

No risk, no reward, the blonde thought as he caught his helmet, "Arc? Y'know, Arc? You...don't know it?"

"No." Weiss replied, her arms crossed as she sent a cold glare towards the blonde young man, "If this is some half-baked attempt at trying to dazzle me, you're doing an abysmal job. A bit of advice, '_Arc_'; there's not a single name on this earth that could hope to even begin to impress me, least of all yours, so do yourself a favor and quit while you're ahead."

Jaune let out a sigh of relief, unable to help the soft grin that crawled onto his face, "Apologies, Ma'am."

"Fine, then... So, Arc and-..."

Weiss' gaze finally settled upon Cardin's mug.

"Hold on." An agonizingly long few seconds passed as the look of recognition crossed her immaculate features, "Cardin? Cardin Winchester?! From Beacon Academy?!"

"The one an' only."

"Which means you're...Jaune Arc?..." Weiss' finger returned to the blonde, who was beginning to feel smaller with each passing moment, "As in 'Vomit-Boy', Jaune Arc?!..."

"There you go!... In the flesh, your majes- _OW! _What the heck?!" Jaune fell to one knee, clutching his throbbing calf.

"How dare you show up here uninvited, you pig!"

"I _work_ here!"

Weiss yanked him up by his chest-rig with an almost surprising amount of strength, wielding the shoe that, upon closer inspection, looked to be worth more than he was.

"Wrong answer!"

This was it. This is how his life would end; felled not buy a bullet, but by the wrathful heel of Weiss Schnee's overpriced stiletto.

How some men found this hot, Jaune would never understand.

"Weiss Schnee!"

All three heads turned to meet the source of the voice; and all at once, the room fell silent.

Standing in the doorway, beside Cardin, was the unmistakable visage of Jacque Schnee. The chairman of the SDC, and Weiss' father.

He looked almost exactly as Jaune had imagined him. While he had stolen glances of various portraits throughout the company that silently claimed to have captured his image, seeing the man in the flesh still somehow gave Jaune pause.

Jaune had seen cold men. Men who possessed not a shred of happiness or kindness within their souls. Men who did not know the meaning of empathy or love.

But this man? This man wasn't cold. No, this man was something entirely different. Instead, he seemed to siphon the energy from the room like a black hole, leaving naught but uncomfortable shuffling and clearing throats in a room that had only moments before been full of- admittedly violent- vibrancy.

"Need I remind you that you are the heiress to this company," His voice was even, almost unnaturally so, like a robot addressing another faulty model, "I will not abide such unacceptable behavior from my next-of-kin."

"But father, I thought they were intruders and-"

A single step towards the heiress was all that was required to silence the girl once more, leaving her to stare down at her feet in shame...and fear.

"Apologize."

It was a simple directive, yet Jaune could see as plain as the shattered crystal upon the floor, that it was taking Weiss every ounce of energy she had to keep her expression unreadable.

She was doing a horrible job at it.

"I...apologize for my brash, accusatory behavior." She turned towards Jaune, offering up a small bow, "It was entirely unbecoming of a Schnee. I do hope you'll forgive me for my childish display, and I look forward to working with you in the future, Mr. Arc."

"Uh, yeah. No problem."

"Excellent," A sort of fake joviality laced the chairman's words, with an even more manufactured smile crawling onto his face, "If she presents herself as a further issue, do not hesitate to come see me. You're here to protect us. I'd rather not have to spend additional resources on injuries sustained thanks to the careless behavior of my own daughter."

He was met by a pair of nods, neither Cardin nor Jaune finding it within them to speak.

Jacque offered a nod of his own in return, before turning on his heel, "Good day, gentlemen."

It was only once Jacque was well and truly away that Jaune gathered up the will to tune his gaze back to the heiress.

For a moment- a single, solitary moment- she just seemed so...small.

* * *

"Well, that could have gone better."

As he and Cardin stride down the hall of Schnee manor, Jaune's hand brushed up against the helmet back on his head. The blonde let out an annoyed sigh when his glove came back covered in what he could only assume was the remnants of one of the various bits of flying makeup that had found their mark.

"Could've gone worse, too." Cardin offered.

"I was hit in the face by a shoe, but thanks, Mr. Optimist."

"I thought _you_ were Mr. Optimist."

"I was hit in the face by a _shoe_, man," Jaune reiterated with a groan, his shoulders slumping as his gaze found the ceiling, "I think my optimism was just bent over a bedpost and paddled."

"With a shoe?"

"Yeah, with a shoe."

"If y'ask me, the only thing that needs a paddling around here is Princess back there." Cardin jabbed a thumb back towards the offending heiress' bedroom, eliciting a soft shrug from Jaune.

"Seems like she got one, if you ask me."

"Yeah, you ain't kiddin'." The ginger awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, "That was her ol'man, right? The Chairman?"

"Mhm..." Jaune clicked his tongue, shoving his thumbs between his torso and chest-rig, "I heard that he used to be kind've a perfectionist when it came to Weiss' grades, but I'd never met him in person before."

Truth be told he could have happily gone his entire life without meeting that man. Something about him was just...off. Unsettling.

Perhaps it was- scratch that, it definitely was- the tone he had taken with Weiss. That was far from the tone of an annoyed father berating a misbehaving offspring. That would have required emotion.

No; Jacque wasn't speaking to his daughter in that moment, was he? He was speaking as if to a machine.

To an automaton.

"Is he everything you expected?"

"Unfortunately."

"Eh, I wouldn't sweat over it." Cardin suggested with a shrug, "We're paid to make sure Weiss doesn't catch a bullet, not evaluate her home-life. If I wanted to be a social worker I would've just gone t'college."

"Guess you're right," Jaune agreed.

"Well, you're first watch on Princess. Congratulations; hope you're ready to take cover again," Cardin motioned to a nearby staircase with his thumb, "I'm gonna head to the kitchen and see if I can convince the staff to donate a cup of coffee or something. Do you want anything?"

"Weiss to be less violent."

A roll of the eyes told Jaune all he needed to know about how his joke was received, though Cardin did at least throw in a piteous smile, "I'll see you in a few hours."

"See ya."

Jaune hummed to himself as he watched Cardin go off to scour for his next meal. He was a unique friend to have, that was for sure, but the blonde was sure he wouldn't trade that friendship for the world. He had it where it counted, and to Jaune, that was good enough.

"Arc!"

God, she could startle the dead.

Glancing back he saw her, standing there, glaring up at him with the confidence of a little Maltese facing off against a humored Golden Retriever.

Despite the almost comical height difference, one that usually would have sent the blonde into a chuckling fit, Jaune couldn't seem to summon his usual grin. For the moment his gaze settled upon her face, he saw it; the almost defeated look in her eyes. She certainly didn't seem as shaken as she had been when her father had first departed, but a decent chunk of that sorrow seemed as if it had buried itself in for the proverbial winter.

"I'm sorry." Jaune's hands flew up in not-so-mock surrender, hoping to alleviate even a sliver of tension.

Judging by the way the heiress' frown only deepened, his attempt was a resounding failure.

"What?!"

"What?"

"What you saw back there?" Weiss waited for Jaune to nod, jabbing her nail against his chest, "It never happened. You witnessed nothing. Do I make myself clear?"

"As crystal."

Just like the crystal she destroyed.

"Good. Now," Weiss crossed her arms, her scowl only deepening further, "I have a busier than average day, and I expect you to keep up. I have vocal rehearsal at 1, lasting until 3, and fencing practice at 3:10 until 3:30. At 3:45 I'll be preparing for the evening's activities, so you'll have around half an hour to...do whatever it is you do. At 5 I'll be leaving the premises to attend a dinner with a business associate of my father. I expect that to last until 8. As per regulation, you'll be riding in the limo alongside me, but I expect you to be out of sight and out of mind at dinner."

Dear Lord, did she have an off button?!

"I have no desire to scare off our business partners with the presence of an armed guard. As incompetent as you are, your attire admittedly does provide an intimidation factor that could influence our dealings, and I do not want to be the one to inform my father that a potentially lucrative contract was lost due to...well, you."

Jeez, that stung. Oh well, at least she wasn't calling him a pervert anymore.

"Was your canine mind able to keep up with that, or am I going to have to repeat myself?"

Not that 'dog' was much better!

"Um, Weiss?"

"What?! I don't really have time for 20 Questions right now so-"

"When exactly are you gonna relax?" He asked, tucking his thumbs behind his chest-rig as the two strolled back towards Weiss' room.

"Relax? I've hardly the time to relax, _Arc_." Did she really just use his name as an _insult? _"I have 26 hours worth of work to fit into 24, I can't afford to sit and stare into space."

"Well, maybe if you just slowed down a little bit you wouldn't be so...y'know..."

"Excuse me? Are you insinuating that I'm irritable?!"

"You said it, not m-"

_Crack!_

This was going to be a long, long day...


	3. Chapter 3: Predetermined Fate

Blood in the Snow Chapter 3: Predetermined Fate

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**Hey all! Not too much to say this time around. So instead here's a bit of a fun fact; Since Dust as the RWBYverse knows it does not exist in this version of Remnant, the Schnee Dust Company is a loosely based adaptation of Lockheed Martin (with various ****added components for the sake of the story) in this universe. Enjoy!**

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Well, this was nice and awkward.

When he was a teenager, if someone had told him he would be in a limo with the girl he had once crushed on, he would have been well over the moon. A night out on the town, with the promise of a high-class dinner? Might as well forget signing him up, he would've just waited at the restaurant for Weiss to arrive!

Unfortunately, they failed to mention that he would be taking the role of an armed guard, accompanying her to meet an entirely different man for dinner.

Damned technicalities.

And of course, just to add insult to injury, Weiss looked nothing short of stunning.

A long, elegant sky-blue dress that rivaled the finest silks that any monarch could hope to afford, with the very same stiletto heels that he had been assaulted with only hours beforehand. It was all accentuated by a small collection of jewelry that probably rivaled Jaune's apartment in terms of value. Each and every gemstone glittering a soft blue in the dim light of the limo cabin, giving the young heiress the look of an angel.

Oh, how a younger Jaune would have labored and toiled just to catch a shred of attention- perhaps in his wildest dreams, even affection-from this seraphic being that disguised herself as a young woman.

Everything about her was absolutely flawless.

It almost made him sick to his stomach, glancing down to look at himself; dressed in such stark contrast to the angelic being which lounged only feet away. He was far from the Prince Charming that she no-doubt so genuinely desired.

No. He was a mere peasant, garbed in the trappings of a pretender.

Where Weiss wore jewelry that complimented her dress beautifully, he sported a suit, concealing Kevlar. As she held a purse, he clutched a Vector SMG. Even her hair was an immaculate work of art, while his remained a ridiculous, sloppy mess of blonde.

She sat there, staring back at him with a look Jaune was relatively sure he had seen one of his sisters give right after ruining their chances with some boy.

That was to say unrestrained ire.

Conversation? Yes, conversation would do wonders in lifting the crushing tension between them, "So what have you been up to since you left school?"

"Studying to inherit my father's company, unlike you, who has languished in mediocrity, content to wile away the hours doing Lord knows what."

Well, _that_ was a good start. A-Plus. Fantastic.

"I wasn't wiling away anything, Miss Schnee, I was—"

"Doing nothing that you could hope to hold my attention with." Her gaze turned to the passing buildings outside the limo window, "Save your little storytime for someone with less important things to occupy their thoughts."

"So what you're saying is, you don't care?"

"Precisely."

"Yeah, you were never much good at that." The whisper had passed his lips before he could stop himself.

"What was that?!..."

"Nothing, Ma'am."

An uncomfortable shroud of silence overtook the limo cabin as Weiss' steely gaze snapped back to the passing streetlights.

"So..." The blonde, against all sense of better judgment, turned around and dove back in for round two, "What's this whole, uh, dinner-meeting about?"

"I'm meeting the chairman of a rival company." Weiss' gaze never left the street, "They've been a consistent thorn in my father's side for long enough, and he feels they'd be better suited as an asset, rather than an adversary."

"What's that gotta do with you?"

"The head of the company has a son around my age," She paused, seemingly lost in thought, "...I'll be discussing the possibility of courtship over dinner with his father tonight."

"...You're gonna get married to secure a business deal?"

"I am." Weiss' hand found the azure necklace slung around her throat, giving the offending jewelry a soft tug, "Nothing quite as effective at stymieing the advances of a potential rival as the promise of marriage."

"What about love?"

"Love is inconsequential." It was a simple answer, yet Jaune could see just how much determination it took for Weiss to retain a neutral expression, "I'm making preemptive moves to secure the future of what will one day be my company. My company won't sustain itself on something as fanciful as love."

"Well, nah. That'd be kinda ridiculous."

Weiss felt a self-satisfied grin threatening to tug at the sides of her mouth, "I'm glad to see you've a modicum of sense in that thick head of y-..."

"I mean, you guys make weapons." Jaune interrupted, offering a goofy smile as he shrugged nonchalantly, "Not much love comes out've a gun barrel."

"...Excuse me?"

"Well, Schnee Dust Company _is_ an arms manufacturing compa—"

"We do not make _guns_, Arc!" Weiss hissed, jabbing an accusatory finger towards the gun resting by Jaune's leg, as if to prove her point.

He did have to give her that. The Schnee Dust Company was not in the business of creating their _own_ guns...

"But it's ammo was manufactured by you." Jaune gently rapped his fist against the side of his gun's magazine, "The Schnee Dust Company is the source've almost half the ammunition used on the continent. Plus, don't you guys make all those planes, drones, and weird robots that disarm bombs?"

Weiss slung her arms along her chest with an indignant huff, "What's your point? Are you accusing me of something?"

_Has it ever occurred to you just what that ammunition was used for?_

"I wasn't accusing you of anything." The young man calmly exclaimed as he held his hands up in mock surrender for the second time that night, hoping against hope once more that it would appease the snowy-haired heiress, "You're putting words in my mouth..."

"Then what's your point?!"

"I'm just _saying_ that your company makes-..."

"People like to kill each other! That makes military technology big business, Arc!" Weiss' gaze found her lap, "And my father knows nothing, if not big business."

"...Sorry."

"Good. You'd do well to keep your opinions to yourself." Weiss instructed, as if chastising a young child, "My father makes decisions based on what he feels will benefit the Schnee dynasty, not emotion, nor personal desire."

"Do you agree with him?"

"..."

It was as quiet as the grave for the rest of the car ride. Only the rhythmic noise of the engine whirring along saved the occupants from deafening silence as the limo sped through the busy streets of the city.

It was only after Jaune was relatively sure he was about to go stir crazy that the limo finally seemed to grow weary of what had seemed a near-endless journey, taking a hard right into one of the millions of parking lots lining the city streets, in the center of which a restaurant lay; it's gloriously lit exterior a beacon in the night.

It was certainly a decent looking place, though all Jaune could think of as he stared at the marble columns lining the face of the structure, was the size of the bill that one could rack up in a place as swanky as this. And of course, to top it off, the place just _had_ to be named something pretentious.

Le Chevalier Blanc.

Who on earth named these restaurants?

"I never asked you for advice. You're here to guard my life, not counsel me through it." Weiss muttered as the car pulled up to the front of the restaurant, the restaurant's parking valet scrambling towards the door.

"Yeah. Cardin said as much earlier."

"Sounds to me like you should take a page out of Cardin's book, then."

Jaune offered up his best lighthearted chuckle, desperately struggling to salvage whatever goodwill he could possibly fish out of this disastrous situation, "No way. Have you seen that guys taste in movies?"

His words gave Weiss pause, one dainty foot out of the door, eyes set forward.

"Arc. I'll only say this once. I don't know how someone as incompetent as you was able to wriggle his way into what is supposed to be the most elite team of private soldiers and bodyguards that the Schnee Dust Company is capable of fielding, but if you think it appropriate to joke around like we're buddies, or ol' pals, then you'll find yourself out of work, and blacklisted from every SDC affiliate, before the night's end."

A joke or two? That was her criteria for expulsion from his duties? Talk about a slavedriver...

He could easily recall a plethora of times when Weiss had been high-strung back at Beacon, bratty even, but she was usually able to at least take a joke. But this? This was oddly...ruthless of her.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to-... Hey! Wait up!"

Weiss was out of the car before the parking valet could even offer a greeting, charging across the asphalt like a woman on a mission.

Jaune scrambled like a headless chicken after his charge, silently cursing the restrictive suit wrapped around his form, "How are you so fast in heels?!"

"How are you so slow in shoes?!"

It was in his panic, his rush to keep up with the alabaster skinned heiress, that Jaune never noticed it.

Or rather, them.

Just beyond the safety of the parking lot, across the street, a small crowd gathered, with seemingly a thousand pairs of eyes watching with a predator's intent as the duo disappeared into the establishment.

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If the outside of the restaurant was fancy, then the inside...

Whew. Talk about living large.

No one, not one guest- heck, not even the staff- looked as if they came from anything less than royalty. Each and every table was laden with beautiful silver cutlery and marvelous crystal glasses holding what were no doubt the finest Mistralian wines. Even the walls were immaculate, lined with paintings that appeared to hold more worth than the average car, and antique clocks that all guided the restaurant through its paces with each passing second, like some mystic metronome, clicking softly over the melodic chime of silverware against porcelain.

"Huh... Fancy place." Jaune mumbled as he carefully tucked away his weapon under the cover of his jacket.

"Yes... Much too sophisticated for someone of your status, I imagine,"

Well, she wasn't wrong...

"Now, make yourself scarce."

"And do what, exactly?" Jaune cocked an eyebrow as the heiress directed him to a nearby table by way of an outstretched finger.

"It's a restaurant. Figure it out."

"Yeah, there's no way I'm affording anything more expensive than a glass've water in here." Jaune chuckled, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.

"Did that fool, Qrow, explain _anything_ to you?!..."

"Uh, he said something about your family being lemmings," Jaune shrugged, "That was about it, really."

"Damnable drunken-..." Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a steady breath. It wouldn't do to get worked up like this before her meeting. "Go and eat, put it on your company card. It's considered a business expense, as you're covertly accompanying me to dinner."

"Huh," Jaune's expression sparked alight at the prospect of a free meal, "That's pretty neat!..."

"Yes, quite 'neat'. Now, go!"

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"And while he's certainly athletic, I can assure you that he knows his way around a boardroom as well as any other."

Is this what hell was like?

This loud, putrid man had been toting up his son as if he were the next messiah for the better part of half an hour now, and Weiss had just about had it with stories of the young man's accomplishments.

While clearly competent, and certainly a viable choice for matrimony, it was clear from the man's overindulgence in praise for his son that he was more interested in selling the young man's positive traits, like a car salesman trying to work over a naïve young car-buyer.

Unfortunately for him, Weiss Schnee wasn't naïve.

A single raised hand felled the man into silence, if only for a brief- a preciously brief- moment.

"Before we continue, I must ask; I assume that you, and your son, wouldn't be opposed to a prenup?" Weiss asked, "You must understand, while I do desire our future coupling to be a happy one, I still must take preventative measures in regards to defending both myself and my father's company, should things go awry."

"Of course, Miss Schnee." The man hummed as he settled back into his chair, which creaked in protest under his impressive...stature, "But I, in turn, must also ask..."

Weiss tapped her wine glass softly, gently biting her lip. She knew exactly where this was going...

"Your surname; will you be retaining it after marriage?"

"If I can help it, that would be the ideal outcome."

"If you don't mind my saying, Weiss," She did, but she also seriously doubted that would do much of anything to deter his self-aggrandizing, "While I wholeheartedly agree that Schnee is a mystic, illustrious name, you'll find Vasilias to be just as vaunted."

"Not to worry, Mr. Vasilias, I'm more than aware of just how influential your name can be." The heiress ran her finger along the rim of her glass, "But I can assure you that my name holds just as much weight."

"I don't doubt it," Mr. Vasilias imitated the heiress' actions with his own- more notably empty- glass, "If only somehow we could combine our names, and the influence they carry."

"If only." Weiss smiled.

"Although, I suppose that's the whole point of this arrangement... In a way."

Weiss felt her face twist in disgust-... No. Nothing out of the ordinary. No overt, ugly expressions. No harsh words or brash actions.

She forced her expression back, taking in soft breaths, in some vain hope that it would lessen the stench.

Her reputation, and possible future- along with the reputation of her father's company- was at stake. There was no way she could screw this up. Her father would never forgive her.

Her father never forgave anyone.

"Which brings us to the subject of heirs," The man's voice brought the heiress back to reality, "I assume you're able to provide?"

If her stomach was in knots before, then it probably resembled a ball of yarn after that winner of a question. She hummed quietly, suppressing the urge to jump across the table to show the old scumbag just what she could provide.

"I can." Weiss replied, resisting the urge to lace each and every syllable with the venom as they passed her lips, "Though I'm much more interested in my own career, at least for the time being."

"But of course. You're...both still young, after all."

The fool was trying to hide his annoyance at her reply, and he was doing an absolutely abysmal job at it. A brain-damaged mutt could see through that paper-thin tonal shift. Hell, _Arc_ could probably see through that horrid acting!

"May I ask why such a rush, then?" Weiss asked, "Surely you just know, Mr. Vasilias, that such personal questions shouldn't be asked so casually, especially to a young woman. It comes off as rather crass."

"I'm merely ensuring my company's future, as you are your father's. I've only one son, and what good would a wife be to him if she couldn't produce his heirs?"

_To him, or to you?_

"I suppose you're right," Weiss reluctantly agreed, a forlorn frown flashing across her face for only a moment.

"Onto more pressing matters, though; the commercial airline concept my company has been developing as of late. How soon would a few of my engineers be able to work alongside the SDC's to experiment with that new developmental turbine I've heard so much about?"

Weiss resisted the urge to chug the rest of her wine. Of course, the greedy old geezer would bring up the experimental engine. His company had been doing their damnedest to collaborate with the SDC to develop a new aircraft for the better part of half a decade.

"I'm afraid that's far from the topic at hand," She muttered, a dangerous glint in her eye, "I'd urge you to remember that we're here to discuss marriage between your son and I, not the furthering of-..."

"Miss Schnee."

And enter stage left; the blonde boy-wonder!

"Arc! What are you doing?!"

She was on her feet, her temper just about ready to blow like a sealed pressure cooker, as the young man strode over to the table, weapon in hand. He certainly didn't look like he was in the mood to play, his face set like stone as his gaze snapped back and forth, as if keeping watch.

But...keeping watch for what?

"It's time to go."


	4. Chapter 4: Winter

Blood in the Snow Chapter 4: Winter

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**I threw a little reference to another series in this chapter. Let's see who can spot it.**

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Jaune Arc was out of his element.

A finely tailored suit? Ties and cufflinks? All expense paid dinner that looked to be specially crafted for a Councilman of Mistral?

Jaune Arc was _really_ out of his element.

Ah well, he thought as he casually guided a fork across a plateful of food, at least he could enjoy some good food while wallowing in the miserable experience of observing as Weiss chattered away across the room, no doubt about her future marriage to the son of that obese, pompous looking sow.

No, that was just his temper talking. His bias.

It was a matter far beyond his control. All he could do was display the utmost professionalism expected of a member of the Schnee Dust Company by retaining his opinions within. His opinions meant nothing to her. He was to keep watch over his charge, and her guest, throughout their meeting - nothing more.

As Weiss had informed him in the car on no uncertain terms; she was his client, not his friend.

Not that she ever had been.

"Saint Laurent."

The authoritative tone of the voice, echoing from just other Jaune's shoulder, sent an almost ghostly chill up his spine, and a cry of surprise from the base of his throat. Whirling around he saw her, standing at attention beside his booth.

She was what could only be described as the image of the Atlesian Military itself; as if the echo of a distinguished war general had reincarnated as a gorgeous young woman standing before him.

Pressed white uniform and jackboots that practically screamed authority, topped off by an immaculate bun of snow-white hair atop her head, with only a few stray strands serving as bangs to detract from her almost sterile appearance. Jaune idly noted that she was a near mirror image of Weiss. Though unlike Weiss, this woman carried herself with an air of maturity that the aforementioned heiress sorely lacked.

"Saint Laurent." The distinguished young woman repeated, her parade stance relaxing as she offered a smile to the gawking young man, "An unconventional choice of evening-wear, for an unconventional looking young man."

"I...uh, thank you?..."

"I assume my sister forced it upon you?" The woman smirked, offering the blonde a glove-covered hand, "Winter Schnee. Eldest sister of the Schnee family. And you, if I'm not mistaken, are Jaune."

"You know me?" Jaune asked, accepting the hand with all the grace and style he could muster.

That was to say, he fumbled it like an oil-laden football.

"How couldn't I?" Winter let out a huff of amusement, a measured smile darting across her flawless features as she took a seat beside the young man, "I still remember the day Weiss stormed into my personal quarters, complaining about how a 'vomit-boy' that had worked up the nerve to ask her out in front of the entire student body."

"Oh, yeah, I remember that." He chuckled, his hand sliding from the table in favor of resting along the grip of his weapon, "I was pretty into her back then."

"And now?"

Jaune glanced over at the woman, an eyebrow quirked.

"What do you think of her now?"

Now that...that was the million-dollar question, wasn't it? She was certainly just as beautiful as she had always been, but something had certainly changed about her, and it certainly wasn't her height.

"She's...different." He carefully surmised, settling back against the plush back of his seat as his gaze steadily trailed across the floor, taking in the faces and mannerisms of each diner.

"Yes, she is," Winter let out a soft, almost piteous sigh, "...It's a shame, isn't it?"

"Eh?"

"After her father withdrew her from Beacon, he took to personally tutoring her, in hopes that she'd accept the proverbial baton, and step forward as his successor."

"How's that going?"

"You can see the results for yourself," Winter rhythmically tapped her finger against the table, the cloth dulling the tone to little more than a soft thump, "She's grown...distant. Cold. Irritable."

A spark of emotion surged across her face for the first time since she'd made her presence known, and it was far from anything positive.

"Like her father."

No love lost there, then, it seemed. Jaune had passed Weiss and her clique in the halls of Beacon quite frequently, and from time to time he would catch the briefest whispers of an elder sister who was a bonafide expert at defying her father. He'd honestly expected someone so much more unruly, or at least...flawed. This? This was exactly what he hadn't expected the Winter of Weiss' stories to be like.

"I don't have much a right to an opinion on that front, Ma'am," Jaune's gaze found the younger Schnee sister, "She's said so herself."

"You've more right than that pathetic excuse for a man over there, trying to pawn off his first-born son like a prized bull." Winter grumbled.

"Why?"

"You care for her."

"No more than any other—"

"You cared enough to join her company's private security force, all in a desperate bid to keep her safe."

"Sorry, but you're _way_ off base with that one, Miss Schnee," Jaune hummed, his eyes darting over to a senior couple dining just a few meters from Weiss, "I was hoping to be assigned to a different family member."

"Were you now?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

Okay, good. He had a leg to stand on in this little pseudo-debate of theirs, at least.

"Sounds to me like you just want an excuse."

Or not.

Jaune settled for tilting a brow, eliciting a soft laugh from his snow-haired companion.

"You're telling me that you clawed through the veritable _mire_ of selection, the layers of vetting...the weeks of training, and the months of invasive scrutiny, all so that you specifically _wouldn't_ be assigned to protect the life of the girl whom once held such a sacred place within your heart that you mustered the reckless courage required to deface yourself before an entire school cafeteria's worth of teenagers, all in an attempt to win her affections?"

"You make me sound like a desperate loser."

"Were you not?"

"Yeah, guess y'got me there." Jaune chuckled.

"May I ask a personal question, Mr. Arc?"

"Well you've been going full steam ahead down that road already, so why not." He agreed with a shrug.

"Do you still care for her?"

"Of course. She's my client-..."

"Don't play coy, Arc. I haven't the patience, nor the time."

"...I don't know." Jaune replied simply, his gaze drawn back to the elderly couple, laughing about something or other, "...A lot has happened."

"No doubt. Some things never change, though."

"I spent so long trying to forget her."

And yet he was sitting here, watching as she had dinner with a rich mogul, discussing the possibility of proxy marriage into the family.

"Forget... I'm afraid she's beginning to forget herself." Winter hummed, a curious sparkle in her eye, "Perhaps you should remind her."

"I'm not a therapist."

"If I wanted a therapist to speak with her, I'd hire one," Was the immediate, almost harsh reply, "I'm asking you to speak to her as a friend."

"Saying we were friends would _reeeally_ be stretching it." The blonde young man mumbled, his gaze ever distracted, bouncing from diner to diner idly.

"Hardly. While I'm sure it seemed like she took every opportunity to abuse you—"

"She did."

"She did it," Winter interrupted, "Because she's not had the best role models in the world."

"Her father?"

"Would sacrifice the sacristy of his marriage if it meant potential gains in the future," Winter drew out a small box atop the table with her finger, "Her father sees us all as pieces on a chessboard, ready to be sacrificed to protect the king."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"What I'm trying to say...is that I suspect your advances did mean something to her, even if those advances were about as subtle as an ocean liner," Winter smirked, eliciting a silent groan from the blonde, "It was a far cry from the usual fare she deals with. She's quite familiar with the usual courting methods employed by the elite of society. Expensive gifts, overly rehearsed love poems scribed by a hired professional, even offers for vacations to faraway destinations."

Jaune shifted uncomfortably, glancing about the room, as if employing whatever covert methods he found at his disposal in order to avoid meeting the gaze of the elder Schnee sister.

"But do you know what she isn't familiar with?"

"The concept of food stamps?" He asked, finally daring to glance back over to Winter.

The woman in question let out a huff of amusement, shaking her head.

"Someone who cares. Someone that sees her, for her." She clarified, "And not her name."

"I don't follow."

"But you _do_."

"Pretend I'm an idiot."

"Yes... We are quite adept at pretending, aren't we, Mr. Arc?" A coy grin played across the woman's face as she visibly leaned towards Jaune.

"Whaddya mean?"

"Take a look over there." Winter casually motioned a gloved finger towards her younger sister, still yammering away with the obese businessman, "What do you see?"

"It's...Weiss and that guy?"

"You see Weiss. Want to know what I see?"

"A lack of appetizers? Cuz you're right, they're taking a long—"

"I see a mask."

Jaune felt his heart drop into his stomach.

Winter's smug grin only seemed to broaden as she leaned in, her eyes cast squarely upon the blonde young man, who shifted uncomfortably under the immovable gaze of the elder Schnee sister.

"What say you, Arc?" Winter pressed, catching the scent of the proverbial blood in the water, "Is it only a mask that I see?"

"What makes you so sure it's a mask?"

"May I be so bold as to hazard a guess?"

"Go for it."

Jaune's tone was more...neutral, Winter idly noted. His usual naïve, humor-laced personality had been dragged into the ether, replaced by what she could only guess was the real Jaune.

The Jaune with whom she truly desired a conversation.

"Because I see an actor, playing his part. The real you appears only after the curtains are down, and the masks are free to fall from your face." Winter pressed her advantage, determined to strike at the chink in the young man's metaphorical armor, "This happy, slothful persona is only an act, suited to keep Weiss ignorant."

"We all have our masks."

"But what matters is what those masks hide." Her voice felt like icy rain cutting through the comfortable air of blissful ignorance that Jaune had spent the better part of the night languishing within, "So, Mr. Arc, what does your mask hide? And when does it fall free?"

"...You're presuming a lot about me."

"I presume nothing."

"Then how do you figure?-..."

"Because your hand has never left your weapon. Not once."

Jaune let out a steady breath.

She was right, his hand has not left his weapon- not even once. But how had she even noticed something so innocuous?

"I've attempted to snatch your attention for the better part of 5 minutes now," Winter clarified, leaning back against the booth's couch calmly, "And yet your eyes haven't stopped flitting from person to person. You've scanned the occupants of this room the better part of 3 times by now. That's not leftover teenage shyness I'm witnessing, that's an act of true discipline. You're someone that knows, through personal experience I wager, just how quickly a situation can turn against you."

"I _really_ think you're getting the wrong idea about me, Miss Schnee," Jaune began, "I just want to make sure that Weiss is safe."

"And she is. I'm here, and so are you; not to mention my own guard. Anyone foolish enough to threaten her would be dealt with in but a few seconds." Winter insisted, motioning over to a young man, standing only a few meters away, his hand tucked snugly into the inside of his suit-coat, "So by all means, you're free to lower your hand. It must be tired, after all."

"..."

"...But you won't." She was going for the killing blow, and they both knew it, "Because you _know_. You know what can happen to those who lower their guard."

Jaune's hand trembled, even as he slowly shook his head.

Winter took a breath, casting her ever steeled gaze towards her sister, obliviously chattering away with the portly man.

"My sister may not hold interest in what you did between now and when the two of you last spoke. But I see a story behind those eyes," Winter surmised, seemingly content with her victory, "So did Qrow. For all the faults that old drunk possesses- and I assure you, he abounds in them- I can always trust him to find people who know what they're doing."

"I don't know much of anything. I went through the SDC's training and got on the team. That's all there is to it."

"And if I go to him, and ask just what you've done before this?"

Jaune tapped the side of his gun, letting out a breath he hadn't even been aware he had been holding in. Why did all white-haired young women have to be borderline insane?

If nothing else Winter certainly possessed the same dangerously effective intellect as her father. It was no wonder they were always at odds. Nothing quite like an intellectual rival to keep tensions high in a boardroom, especially if that rival happened to be related by blood.

"I'm sure it would be an enlightening experience." Winter hummed, dragging Jaune back to the present, "Regardless... Your story is yours. I'd rather hear it from your mouth, rather than read it off a screen."

"You aren't interested?" Jaune inquired.

"Oh don't misconstrue my words, I can assure you that I'm more interested in hearing what you have to say."

"It's not a story that I particularly like telling for the fun of it."

"Then I only ask that you employ the knowledge and experience gained through that story to protect my sister." Winter shot the young man a knowing look, "Oh, and if you could just drag her back out of her shell that would be fantastic."

Jaune couldn't resist the grin that crawled onto his face, "Can't promise the world, but I promise I'll try."

"That's all I ask."

A comfortable silence set about, the two watching Weiss go about her little meeting.

That peace soon found itself fractured as the guardsman standing a few meters away, the long-haired young man Jaune had previously spotted in the armory during orientation, glanced down at a small device latched to his wrist, prompting him to stroll over to Winter. He knelt down with Little fanfare, though judging from Winter's expression, his message was anything but trivial.

"Thank you, Ren..."

The young man, Ren, gave Winter a soft nod, before swiftly drawing two 1911 pistols.

"What's going on?" Jaune inquired as Ren stalked off, ignoring the whispers of diners as he took up a position next to one of the dozens of large, man-sized windows lining the wall of the restaurant.

"Seems we're just a bit too high profile here." Winter hummed, "You're aware of the Menagerie insurgents; the ones that refer to themselves as the White Fang?"

"I am."

How couldn't he be?

The White Fang; remnants of the Menagerie Armed Forces that had taken to terrorism and guerrilla warfare after the formal surrender of the Faunus nation. They were armed, they were dangerous, and they had no regard for those that they felt got in their way.

Most called them terrorists, but Jaune knew better. Most terrorists would be ill-equipped, under-trained, and in many cases, far from unified.

The White Fang was none of these things. They were well trained, they were equipped with weapons that even the Menagerie military considered to be out of the price range of their everyday soldier, and they all had a burning hatred for Atlas and it's people.

In short, they were militarized zealots; _armed_ zealots.

Their attacks had become more frequent in the last few months, beginning with innocuous strikes against factories and industrial plants, but their tactics soon moved to high profile assassination and random acts of violence. Several high-ranking military and government officials had already fallen prey to their attacks, and the White Fang hardly seemed content with it's current body-count.

It was the entire reason the Counter-Assault Bodyguard division of the SDC had even been founded.

"A dignitary from the country was recently detained for the possession of illegal arms under the terms of the Lagune Treaty." Winter, "While detaining the dignitary is well within the rights of the Atlesian military, many local Faunus, alongside residents with Menageric sympathies, have taken to the streets in protest."

"The White Fang is taking advantage of the situation; sending out propagandists to rile the sympathetic populace into a frenzy."

"You catch on quickly," Winter replied as she pulled herself to her feet, offering the young man a hand up, "The protests are peaceful, at least for the time being, but with a martyr on their hands, I doubt it will take the Fang long to coax them into violence."

"How long?"

"I'd wager a few hours, at most, before it boils over." Winter's eyes found Weiss, still yapping away about Lord knows what, "Truth be told, I'd originally come here to warn my sister."

It made sense, Jaune thought as his own gaze followed the elder Schnee's. Her father's company was chiefly responsible for most of the planes and tanks that killed Menagerie soldiers during the war, which made her an extremely tempting target for a high-profile assassination.

An example.

"Should I cut her meeting short?"

"You'd be a braver man than most," Winter smirked, "But yes, I think it's about time we leave."

* * *

"I'm afraid that's far from the topic at hand," Weiss muttered, a dangerous glint in her eye, "I'd urge you to remember that we're here to discuss marriage between your son and I, not the furthering of-..."

"Miss Schnee."

Jaune knew before he had even reached the table that he would be suffering a verbal blow or two, but somehow it never stung any less.

Right now, though? Right now, there were more important things than his pride or feelings at stake.

"Arc! What are you doing?!"

"It's time to go."

"It's time to?-..." Weiss shot to her feet, absolute rage etched onto her seraphic features, "How _dare_ you! I'm having an important interview that may very well decide the future of—"

"Miss Schnee, I can appreciate that, but we have a situation developing."

"A situation?..." There was a long pause as Weiss leaned in, her voice dangerously low, "There will be a situation if you don't-..."

"Now, Weiss!"

For the first time that night, Weiss appeared absolutely gobsmacked. She stood as still as stone, mouth hanging open and she stared up at the blonde in disbelief, "...Arc, what has gotten into?!-..."

"_Jaune_!"

"Winter?! Is that—"

_"GET DOWN!"_

And just like that, the entire restaurant erupted into chaos...


	5. Chapter 5: Cracked Mask

Blood in the Snow Chapter 5: Cracked Mask

* * *

**Nothing too important to let you know this chapter, so here's another little fun fact instead; this story was named after the WW2 American Paratrooper song, Blood on the Risers. Give it a listen if you want a prime example of self-deprecating dark humor. Hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

Jaune had to give it to Winter. If there was one thing that woman knew how to do, it was move.

The very moment the first rock sailed through the window, Winter reacted, using strength deceitful to her lithe form to throw Jaune's table- and his dinner- on it's side, taking cover behind the impromptu wooden wall.

Of course, Weiss hadn't been nearly as attentive, or as quick to react, only hitting the floor when Jaune well and truly realized she had gone and frozen in place, prompting him to yank her down to the floor like an extremely angry sack of potatoes.

"They were quicker than I'd anticipated," Winter called out from behind her cover as Jaune kicked over the closest table to him, shuffling Weiss behind it, "The White Fang must have accelerated their usual methods. They're not usually so aggressive so quickly!"

"Guess I'll never ask you to tell me my fortune!" Jaune called back.

A retort from Winter never came, as Jaune's attention was yanked away from the elder Schnee sister, like a moth to a brighter light, as the guard that had accompanied Winter in vaulted behind the table next to Jaune, his two 1911 pistols held at the ready.

"Apologies," The young man- Ren, if Jaune's memory served him- nodded, "You don't mind if I take shelter for a moment or two?"

Jaune chuckled, earning a grin from the long-haired young man.

"Lie Ren," Ren exclaimed as he caught a nearby fleeing diner by their belt, yanking the old geezer behind cover with him just in time to dodge a flying bottle, which exploded in a shower of clear liquid upon the formerly pristine floor, "Friends just call me Ren."

"Pleased t'meetcha, Ren; name's Jaune!" The blonde glanced out from behind the table, his stomach turning at the sight of what seemed an innumerable collection of hate-filled faces staring into the restaurant, "How many?"

"Few dozen. At least 12 to 20 throwers, but I saw a few of them run off." Ren risked a glance of his own, only to be met by a decently sized rock bouncing off the surface of his table-shield, "I have a feeling that they'll be back, though."

And they wouldn't be bringing rocks and bottles, Jaune concluded.

"What're the rules here?"

"Engaged if engaged-.." A crash echoed through the restaurant as a rock flew through, striking a diner on the temple with a gut-twisting crack, "I'd say we've met those requirements."

"Where's the fat man?"

"Mr. Vasilias? Not sure," Ren's magenta eyes scanned the gathered diners; some running, some taking cover, all panicked, "I lost him in the crowd at some point. I can only assume he's scampered away with his tail between his legs."

Fine by him, Jaune thought as he glanced down to his Vector, hastily checking the condition of the weapon. He just had to keep his head on straight, and everything would turn out okay. They had ample cover, and the rioters didn't seem intent on breaching into the restaurant itself.

As long as they stayed outside, the crowd would eventually burn themselves out. Any fire that burned with such ferocity never blazed on for long.

They were angry, that was for sure, but before long that anger would give way to reason. They would run dry of both motivation and justification for their violence, and they would all gradually come to realize their siege would be a fruitless endeavor.

Yes, as long as everyone stayed calm, and as long as the rioters didn't attempt to enter the building, the situation would eventually resolve itself.

So why couldn't he shake the feeling that he was forgetting something...

"Jaune Arc!"

Right. _That's_ what he was forgetting.

Ooh, boy... She looked angry, "Miss Schnee, you need to stay down—"

Well now, that slap was just unnecessary.

"Don't 'Miss Schnee' me, you dolt!" Weiss struggled against her bodyguard's grip, retinas burning with pure rage, "Do you have _any_ idea what you've done to my marriage interview?!"

"That's not a priority right now! The priority is— _Weiss_!"

She was on her feet. Her head was exposed.

"This is ridiculous!" Weiss let out an involuntary yelp as Jaune attempted to yank her back down, only to slap his hand away once more, "Unhand me immediately, you maladroit fool!"

"Weiss, stop!"

"If you think I'm going to take the absolute _indignity_ you've forced upon me lying down, you have another thing coming!"

"You're acting like a child!"

"Let me _GO_!"

"I don't have time to argue!" The blonde screamed, "Get back down h!-..."

There were few times in Jaune's life that he could say he genuinely felt sick to his stomach by a mere sight alone. He had adapted himself to sights that would otherwise set a normal man's constitution sideways.

But the image of Weiss falling back onto the floor, shrieking in agony as she clutched at her eye, blood flowing between her twitching fingers like a burst pipe? Despite all that he had seen, despite all that he had been able to block out, he was sure that image would stick with him until the day he died.

He vaguely registered Winter screaming her sister's name from the other end of the room as another assault of stone and glass rained down, peppering those out of cover like a skin shredding hailstorm.

Ren turned to Jaune, somehow as calm as could be, despite the whirlwind of chaos churning around him, "Jaune, suppress and maneuver. Ready?"

Jaune nodded, throwing the barrel of his gun up towards the windows.

"...Bounding!"

For only a moment, a singular moment in a whirlwind of chaos, everything seemed so...calm. Despite Weiss' cries, the jeers and shouts of the rioters, even the panic of the diners all around him, screeching like a hoard of locusts...

His sights found someone. A young man with antlers atop his head, winding back another fist-sized rock in his grasp.

Everything was calm.

Inhale...

Exhale...

And let the mask fall free.

The trigger snapped back, and the young man crumpled out of view with a deafening crack.

It never ceased to amaze him just how small, how claustrophobic the world could become under the din of gunfire. It dulled the senses, rendering reality as little more than a hazy blur, and yet somehow- in that haze- provided a blank slate on which one could take in every detail, every sliver, of a situation.

Another bullet ripped through the air.

Another life in the crowd was snuffed out.

Perhaps it was some divine mercy, or maybe it was just the higher plateaus of the conscious melting away, leaving only the baser instincts to forge ahead, unburdened by some hindering sense of fear, or morality.

It didn't matter, in the end. All that mattered for Jaune, at that moment, was the sound of the shrieking girl that lay behind him, crying out for someone- anyone- to help her.

His offhand flew to his coat's front pocket, pinching the object tucked neatly inside with a vice-like grip, doing what he could to ignore Weiss' cries, if only for a few moments.

"Actual, Delta-2; message!"

_"...What?"_

Qrow. It was Qrow's voice, filtering into his earpiece, barely audible over the occasional crack of his Vector, and the near-constant roar of protestors throwing whatever they could into the restaurant.

"Sir, I have a wounded VIP; how copy?!"

_"Knocked her teeth in, huh?"_ The drunkard actually had the sheer audacity to laugh over the radio, _"Can't blame y'there-..."_

"HELP!"

A bottle slammed against the table, showering Jaune in whatever the heck had been inside of it. Lord, he prayed it was only wine.

_"Alright, alright! Y'don't gotta yell in my ear, Blondie!"_ Qrow chided, as casual as ever, _"Where y'at?"_

"Coordinates as follows; 24917—"

_"A name sometime today would be good. I'm gettin' call-ins from all over."_

"Qrow!"

Jaune's mouth hung open, his latest remark caught on the tip of his tongue as a gloved hand seized the radio hidden inside of his coat. His eyes snapped up to the unmistakable visage of Winter.

When had she?-...

Jaune's gaze was drawn to the table that she had taken cover behind only moments before, only to discover that it had gone and moved, no doubt pushed along by Ren, who huddled just behind the protective barrier.

_"Ice Queen? Is that you?"_

"Branwen, if a car isn't here in the next 3 minutes, I swear to you!-..."

_"Alright, I get it!" _Jaune could practically envision the man mock surrendering, his hands in the air, _"Where are you?"_

"Le Chevalier Blanc! Weiss is hurt!..."

_"Yeah, yeah, I got that part already. Just head out the back, someone'll meet y'there."_ There was a pause, _"And tell Blondie to learn how to speak sense, would ya?!"_

"He's acting with far more professionalism than you ever have!"

_"Oh, there's a high bar to strive-..."_

His message was cut off as Winter dropped her hand from Jaune's transceiver in favor of her own personal one, snuggled discreetly inside of her ear.

"Echo team, be advised, we've been made aware of sporadic pockets of protesters popping up around the city, mainly concentrated towards civilian hubs." Winter paused, waiting what seemed like an eternity before bringing her hand back up to her earpiece, "...Echo team, how copy?"

The two gun-toting young men glanced at each other with unease as the normally composed Winter's face contorted with anxiety.

"Echo team?!" Winter hissed, "Echo team?! _Whitley_?!"

She let out a string of curses, shaking her head.

"I need to make sure that our little brother is alright." Winter gestured to her sister, still writhing on the floor, "I'm trusting you to see her safe, Arc!"

Jaune nodded, ignoring the pit in his stomach as he turned back to see the blood matting her once snow-white locks an ugly dark red.

"Ren, we're leaving!"

"On you, Ma'am."

Winter pulled out a small pistol, taking a few shots of her own into the crowd as she and the young man accompanying her slowly made their way to the back of the restaurant, disappearing into the gardens of the establishment.

At first, Jaune thought to retrieve Weiss and follow their lead, but his reasoning quickly suppressed that instinct. Unlike Winter, Weiss wouldn't be able to defend herself if they were surrounded, and Jaune certainly wouldn't be able to hold off an entire mob for more than a few moments before they would find themselves overwhelmed.

He would have to come up with an alternative, he concluded as he slung his Vector around his shoulder and retrieved Weiss from the floor. Somehow, despite the situation, he still found the need to handle her like some fine porcelain.

"Arc! Arc, what's going on?!" Her hands flew to her face in a vain attempt to clear off her bloody eye, though it succeeded only in staining nearly her entire face a deep crimson, "I can't see!"

"It's fine! I'll get us out; just keep your legs tucked in!"

It was a long trek to the kitchen entrance for the poor young man, who found himself pausing every few moments to fling both he and his charge behind some new piece of cover as another volley of rocks, bottles, and trash were flung indiscriminately into the establishment. He came close to catching a bottle or rock to the dome more than a few times, but eventually he burst through the double doors that led to the industrial-sized kitchen, Weiss still in his arms as he scrambled past a seemingly endless line of pots, pans, and stoves.

Eventually, after his miniature marathon, Jaune's eyes finally found the employee exit in the back of the kitchen, and his shoulder followed soon after.

As if by clockwork, the moment that the crisp night air of Atlas hit the young man's face, a limo sped through the chain fence separating the back lot of the restaurant from the street, screeching to a halt just in front of Jaune.

But just as Jaune set Weiss against the side of the limo to yank open the back door, the window rolled down with haste, revealing a panicked Cardin.

"Jaune! Behind you!"

The blonde's gaze snapped back.

Just behind him, only a few meters away, a young woman ran through the employee exit, wielding a wrought pipe in her hand.

A gunshot rang out...

And the young woman fell.

"Arc?! What was that?!" Weiss' hand once again came up to rub the blood from her eye, only to be met with a rush of pain from the wound, "Jaune! Jaune, are you?-..."

Her hand finally cleared away the blood from her good eye, allowing her to pry it open, if only for a moment.

A moment was all she needed, it turned out, to see it. To see the expression etched upon his face. She had expected anger, disgust, even just the mildest hint of frustration at their situation. She had expected so much, but what she hadn't expected...was that.

There was no darkness in his eyes, no anger. No hate.

Only emptiness.

"Left you alone t'get a sandwich," Cardin exclaimed as he stumbled out of the car like a drunken vagrant, yanking the handgun from his holster, "And you gotta go an' start a war on me, Jauney-boy!..."

"Qrow send you?"

"Yeah; all the teams are scrambled." He replied as he helped the still-impaired heiress into the back of the limo, "Alpha and Bravo teams have Mommy n' Daddy covered. Only one unaccounted for is Echo Team."

"Yeah, Winter was trying to get in contact with them; think their radios are down?"

"Let's hope it's the radios and not them." Cardin leaned against the hood of the car, pistol in hand, "What's the plan? Blackstone Hospital?"

"No. No hospitals." Jaune mumbled jerking his head back towards the restaurant, "If the riots are as bad as this, this far from the city center-..."

"There's no telling what the more densely populated zones will be like." Cardin's eyes drifted shut as he took a preparatory breath, "Alright. You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

"Don't think we have much of a choice..."

"We could just throw ourselves off a cliff and get it over with."

Cardin's quip was lost upon the blonde young man, who's gaze was firmly locked upon the body laying still in the lot, a pool of crimson forming under her like a bed of rose petals.

Or more accurately, upon the distinct set of antlers that lay upon her head.

Was...it the same person? Had it been a girl after all, back in the restaurant? Had they been hit in a non-vital spot the first time?

No... No, he was sure. That couldn't be the same person. No one just got up and started charging after a shot like that, even if they did survive.

Which meant-...

His head snapped away from the young woman. There was no point in worrying about it now. She had been a threat. He was the one tasked with neutralizing any and all threats to his team and his client.

Even ones that charged at them with tears in their eyes.

"Hey."

Cardin's voice and a reassuring slap on the shoulder brought Jaune's thoughts rushing back to the present.

"...Stay with me, man."

Jaune took in a breath, forcing what could pass as a goofy smile onto to his face, "C'mon, let's get going."

* * *

"OW! That hurts, Arc!" Weiss cried as the alcoholic pad seeped it's infernal juices into her wound, "_ARC_!"

"I know; I know it does!..." The blonde agreed, though he continued to keep pressure on her eye nevertheless, "But I need to clean it now. If they hit your eyeball, then we'll need to-..."

Jaune let his hand fall away for but a moment before grabbing a new pad, ripping it open with his teeth, before slapping it right where the old one had rested. Weiss let out a hiss as fresh alcohol seeped into her gash.

"...What? What is it?!" She quickly descended into a bout of hyperventilation, driven on by panic and pain, "Say something!"

"It's fine! It'll be fine!..."

After enough stitches to fashion a sweater, maybe...

"Can you see?" Jaune held up a single finger before Weiss, swaying it from side to side, "Follow my finger."

For once she listened, her crystal-blue eyes carefully following the digit, despite twitching in pain every few seconds.

Alright, her retina wasn't damaged. That was a plus.

"You'll be fine, you just need a few stitches, and—"

"Stitches?!"

"...And then you'll be fine."

"Will it scar?..."

Jaune found himself far from keen to answer the heiress, opting instead to focus on applying pressure to the wound.

"Will it _scar_, Arc?!"

She really just had to be the vainest person in the room, didn't she?!

"_Arc_!"

"I don't know, okay?! I don't know!" He held back an audible wince at the devastation that crossed by her good eye, "I'm sorry, Weiss."

Unable to bear that look any longer than was necessary, Jaune quickly instructed her to keep pressure on the wound, before clamoring to the front of the passenger section of the passenger cabin. Peering out of the dividing window between the passenger section and the driver's seat, Jaune found Cardin, his face set in stone as he stared out to the dark void of the road ahead.

"How's it looking?"

"Pretty good, all things considered." Cardin mumbled, his eyes never leaving the dimly lit highway leading out of the city, "We've passed a few pockets of activity, but nothing too insane. Not quite brave enough to take any main roads, though."

"Radio."

"Copy."

His hand slapped the dial, the radio sputtering to life.

_"-with the announcement of Senator Albain's apprehension, many Faunus Civil Rights groups have taken to the streets in protest. Rallies began peacefully but quickly descended into an increasingly familiar pattern of violence as several hardcore FCR Members took to vandalization and assault. Protestors have been seen striking down security cameras, assaulting officers, and smashing storefront displays. __We go now to our on the ground reporter, Lisa Lavender; Lisa, what are you seeing?"_

_"Well, Sterling, while the outskirts of Atlas proper are only experiencing concentrated pockets of violence, it seems as if Center City has descended into a warzone within a matter of hours!"_ The voice on the radio was static-ridden; blurry. The panic in her tone, though? That was as clear as a star in the night sky. _"City officials have condemned the violence, citing it as a-.."_

Cardin and Jaune exchanged a wary glance as the radio fell silent for a few agonizingly long seconds.

_"...Just in, a large crowd of armed counter-protesters have been seen converging on Main Street. Citizens are advised to stay indoors—"_

Cardin took in a weary breath, his knuckles going white as he clenched the steering wheel, "Fuck."

"A few years ago, you would've been one've them."

"Don't remind me..."

* * *

"Where are we?"

"Somewhere safe."

"Safe?! Cardin's driven us out into the outskirts of some backwater town!" Weiss' shrill cry tore through the tranquil snow-covered glade like a blade through flesh as she was guided up the small forest trail, "We're anything but _safe_ out here!..."

"Weiss, how do riots work?"

It was a simple question, yet one that gave Weiss pause, if only for a moment.

"What?!..." She finally muttered, somehow summoning the energy to shoot a glare up at the blonde, who offered only a sigh.

"How do riots work?"

Weiss' blank look told him all he needed to know.

"...Large groups of emotionally compromised individuals rile each other up into a frenzy through natural pack mentality, causing them to act irrationally- even violently." Jaune eventually answered for her, somehow resisting the overwhelming urge to let his eyes roll back into his head.

"So?!"

"_So_...how many large crowds do you see around here?" Jaune motioned out before them, prompting Weiss to gaze out upon was she presumed was their final destination.

It was a quaint-looking house. Certainly not small to an average person, that was for sure, though to Weiss it probably seemed little more than an oversized cabin in the woods. Made up of a mostly wooden exterior with some metal decor, it gave a rustic feeling that was about as foreign as an alien to the heiress, though hardly as disconcerting.

Weiss bit her bottom lip as she looked upon the cottage through the crimson haze still impairing her sight. Jaune was right, as much as she hated to admit it. If there was one place to hide from a mob of rioters, it was in the middle of nowhere.

"Are we just here to hide, then?" She asked as they slowly approached the front door, Weiss still clinging to the back of Jaune's coat like a lifeline.

"No. We're here to get your eye looked at." Jaune mumbled as he felt Weiss finally release her grip in favor of letting the appendage flop down to her side with an almost inaudible 'thump'.

"Here?! Did a rock hit you on the head, Arc?!"

Said the pot to the kettle...

"There's someone here that'll be able to stitch you up." Jaune turned to his companion, seemingly unfazed by Weiss' latest verbal jab, "Can you grab the door, Cardin?"

Cardin nodded, opening the door without so much as knocking, before disappearing past the entryway.

"Where is '_here_', Arc?" Weiss attempted one last time, finally earning a soft, almost genuine smile from the blonde young man.

"Home."

Jaune strode through the entranceway, followed closely by the heiress.

The entryway seemed more or less the expected standard for a home in the Alteasian countryside, but once they passed into the living room? Well, all expectations of an Atlesian aesthetic flew out the window.

Because whoever decorated this place either had a serious thing for the color green, or elven yard sales.

A light green rug that could have easily passed as a patch of Mistralian grass from a distance, a set of dark green couches and a loveseat that formed a half-circle facing a mahogany coffee table and a flat-screen TV. Bookshelves packed to the brim lined the walls where the legions of family photos hadn't annexed space, depicting a veritable plethora of different people, all crowded around what looked to be a young child; a dark-haired toddler dressed in red.

All in all, even Weiss had to begrudgingly relent to the homeliness of the house. It exuded a strange, unfamiliar- but certainly not unwelcome- warmth to the heiress.

"Hey, Bunny! You home?!"

It was Cardin who called out, up the stairs with a hand to his mouth. He was rewarded only moments later by a soft, female voice calling back down the stairs.

"Cardin! Is that you?"

"Yeah, we- uh," Cardin soared a glance back at Weiss, who arched a blood-covered brow, "We kinda need a medic down here!..."

"What?!"

There was a small rustling upstairs as whoever was up there presumably flung themselves from whatever task they had been set on in favor of rushing down the stairs.

But when they finally appeared? Weiss could have sworn she felt her heart skip a beat.

It wasn't her brown hair that made her blood run cold, nor the pair of warm hazel eyes staring down at her with concern. Not even the ridiculous rabbit themed apron that wrapped around her lithe form.

No, it was none of that. It was what lay atop her head that gave Weiss pause; what sent a shiver down the heiress' spine.

The unmistakable profile of rabbit ears.

A Faunus.


	6. Chapter 6: Meet the Family

Blood in the Snow Chapter 6: Meet the Family

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**Hey all. Fanfiction was having itself an episode the other day so I wasn't able to read reviews right away, but the issue did eventually fix itself, so that I could take a look at what you all had to say, so not to worry. Because of that, though, well... Normally I always take reviews into account when writing. Unfortunately, this particular chapter did not have that minor influence due to the previous issue. Apologies. I assure you I do read them.**

**A note for those who want a quick, no-mess visual reference to the location, I essentially took the Rose family home and threw it into a more suitable 'Atlesian' environment. Essentially just Patch in the snow. Guess you could call it a...snow patch!...**

**...**

**Yeah, Yang's appearing in this chapter. I've been infected. Send help.**

* * *

"Sit still, just a few more."

"You've been at this for nearly an hour already!..."

"Well, you aren't making it any quicker by squirming around. It'll be stitched up soon, don't worry."

It had taken a solid 15 minutes of convincing. Fifteen minutes of crass insults and more than a few death-glares sent in Jaune's general direction. Eventually, though, despite the heinous glares, insults, and maybe a scratch or two, the doofus duo had somehow convinced Weiss to let Velvet stitch her face up.

...That argument had been extended by another 5 once they had displayed the 'unacceptable audacity' of attempting to leave the room to watch TV.

"...Why?"

Velvet hummed at the heiress' question, never quite turning her attention away from her delicate task, "Because you're bleeding all over the kitchen. Two more..."

Weiss felt a gentle tug against her cheek as another suture was secured.

It was honestly surprising just how little this stung. Sure, it hurt, but at least it was not on the same level of pain that whatever had struck her had subjected her to.

"Why are you bothering to assist me?" She clarified, somehow able to retain her signature overly-distinguished tone, despite the hilarious looking wound marring her face, "You're a Faunus."

Another tug. The final suture had been secured. She was well and whole once more; newly acquired scar-in-the-making aside.

"And you're a human." Velvet concurred, lopping off the excess material of the final stitch, "What's your point?"

"A Faunus did this to me..."

"Would you like to know what you Atlesians have done to _me_ over the years?"

The rabbit Faunus waited for no reply, instead turning back to the sink, where she had set up a small work-station of medical supplies. She worked deftly, objects practically teleporting back into a sizable wooden box with a stitched-together heart emblazoned proudly upon its side.

Rather fitting, given the young woman's talents, Weiss noted idly.

"I...didn't mean it like-..."

"I know; it's okay." Velvet interrupted as she clamped her box shut with a dull 'thunk' that echoed throughout the kitchen, "Truth be told, out of all the Faunus you'd have a right to be fearful of, I'm not far from the top of the list. I was part of the enemy once."

Velvet strode over to the heiress, her dark-chocolate eyes shimmering with an almost...sympathetic glow.

"But that enemy is gone. The war is over," Velvet slowly shook her head, as if casting away whatever memories plagued her mind's eye, "I just want to do whatever I can to pick up the shattered pieces, move on from the things I saw, and devote my life to helping whoever I can...Faunus, human-..."

Velvet poked Weiss' uninjured cheek, eliciting a small smile from the heiress.

"Or Schnee."

She turned back to the sink, hefting her box up with a small grunt.

"We'll need to keep that clean. It's right across your eye socket, so the last thing we want is for it to develop an infection." Velvet stated firmly as she strode by the alabaster-skinned young woman, "Twice a day with soap and water will be enough."

"Speaking of, you wouldn't happen to have a shower I could make use of?"

"Absolutely," Velvet tilted her head out towards the common room, where Jaune and Cardin had disappeared off to, "I'll go'n see about finding you some spare clothes you can wear. You just stay right there."

She crossed out of the kitchen into the common room with one last nod, the smile falling away from her face like paint dripping off of a wall the moment her feet made contact with the grass-colored carpeting.

"So, which one of you _blighters_ wants to explain?"

A pair of heads turned in her direction, neither one providing an answer for what seemed like the longest time. If there was one thing that both young men knew about Velvet, it was that she quickly grew protective of any patients she acquired- often going so far as to take steps in learning how they had been injured in the first place, to neutralize the possibility of a repeat visit.

"Riots in the city. We got caught up in the middle of'm." Jaune explained, finally deciding to bite the proverbial bullet as he muted whatever ridiculous program was blaring away on the TV, "Weiss was injured while we were trying to escape."

"Did you see what hit Weiss?"

"I kinda just assumed that she was hit by a rock, why?"

Velvet seemed to see fit to not provide an immediate answer, instead opting to place her beloved box upon the coffee table, before looping back around to loom behind the couch that Cardin lounged upon.

"...You assume, or you _know_?"

"Why, Velvet?"

"Jaune, a rock would've given her a black eye." Velvet's ears visibly dropped as she let out a plaintive sigh, her tone finally softening, "She was hit by shrapnel."

If Jaune and Cardin hadn't been paying attention before, they certainly were now.

"I...didn't hear any explosions." Jaune began slowly, he and the ginger trading a wary glance.

"I meant from the windows. If she got up just as of the windows shattered," She had; Jaune could remember it as clear as day. "Then she exposed herself to the shards just as they were flying through the air."

"So... What're you saying?"

Velvet leaned her arms against the top of Cardin's head, her floppy ears descending into his field of view.

"I'm saying that she's luckier than she realizes. Either the angle was just right, or it struck her supraorbital foramen and then bounced down- and off- her zygomatic bone." Velvet lightly traced her estimated trajectory upon Cardin's face with her finger, giving his cheek a gentle tap, "Either way, she should be thanking the heavens right about now. If her head had been tilted just a quarter-inch further, she wouldn't be alive to worry about that scar she's fussing over getting."

A quarter of an inch. That had been the margin for error. The thing that had saved Weiss' very _life_ was a quarter of an inch.

"Fantastic." Cardin gave an exaggerated sigh, loosely waving his hand around in the air, "Can't believe we thought protecting that despotic little runt would be an easy gig."

"Out here? It probably is." Velvet countered, "Better here than in the city."

Velvet turned to Jaune, readopting her 'medical tone' when he made a subtle reach for the TV remote.

"Go check on your friend," She instructed simply, jabbing a thumb towards the kitchen, "She's still dazed. It would do her well to see a familiar face."

"Honestly?" Jaune mused as he brought himself to his feet, "I think she'd prefer to headbutt a wall rather than have an extended conversation with me."

"Different methods, same migraine." Cardin chuckled.

Jaune strolled by with a sardonic chuckle, flicking the back of Cardin's head as he strode past.

* * *

Weiss gave her wound an experimental prod, letting out a hiss of discomfort as it thumped painfully against her touch.

Velvet was a capable person with those sutures, but that hardly meant it was a painless experience. Still, she had to admit that she was grateful; if for no other reason than she would be able to seclude herself in relative obscurity in the wilderness of Atlas until her stitches could be removed. Nothing worse for a young lady's reputation than an unflattering picture of a horrific facial wound, after all.

Another unforeseen benefit of their impromptu excursion into the woods was the long-overdue tranquility that it brought. Weiss finally had been granted an opportunity to cobble together her thoughts.

The more she did, though, the more her mind's eye inevitably envisioned that ridiculous mop of shaggy blonde hair. The ridiculously goofy smile that made her eyes roll into her head every time she saw it. His sea-blue eyes that-... That...

That she hadn't seen in years.

Jaune's eyes. That was not the Jaune she was used to. That was not the Jaune she knew.

...Then again, it wasn't like she had known all that much about him in the first place.

What _did_ she know? That was a good place to start.

She knew that they had gone to the same school and that he had harbored an almost nauseating level of infatuation for her from day one. Nearly every week, like clockwork, he cooked up some random hair-brained scheme in a desperate attempt to ask her out, and like clockwork, she would instruct him to kindly fornicate in another zip-code.

He never did quite grasp the meaning of that, she recalled with a huff of amusement.

Otherwise, he was an intelligent young man, from what she could gather, though had issues when it came to academically applying himself, and had carved himself a comfortable place in the middle of the herd when it came to his grades. Perhaps not a shining star amongst a sea of nightlights, but certainly not the brain-dead imbecile she so often claimed him to be.

He had also been kind to a fault, frequently throwing himself into harm's way for the sake of others. A cat stuck in a tree? He would be halfway up before other students even considered finding a ladder. A new student lost in the halls, panicking about missing class? If they ran into a Jaune, the only person getting to class late would be _him_.

But...past that? Nothing. As far as she was- had been- concerned, he might as well have blinked out of existence, along with the rest of the school, when she had been yanked out of the public education system by her father.

So what had occurred between then and now? Where had that Jaune gone? And who was it that stood in his place now?

"Hey."

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Weiss glanced up to meet her bodyguard's gaze. "...Hi."

"How's your eye?"

There it was again. That unnerving, cold stare.

It was only present for a fleeting moment. Honestly, if she hadn't been mulling over it, she may not have even noticed the near-lightning quick shift in his expression. But that only brought another question to the forefront of her mind; how many of those strange shifts had she missed already?

"It's fine," She lied, "...And yours?"

"Mine?"

"Your eyes."

"What about'em?"

"...Nothing." Weiss glanced down to her immaculately manicured nails, her eyes lingering on the blood that stained her once sky-blue cuticles, "Your friend. She's nice."

"Velvet? Yeah, she's the best people-fixer we know." Jaune chuckled, "Honestly she's—"

An anxiety-inducing bang echoed through the kitchen like a gunshot as the backdoor flew open, causing both Weiss and Jaune to jump.

"Vomit-boy! Thought I smelt'cha!"

"Oh boy..."

Jaune barely had the opportunity to sigh in exasperation before a blonde woman sauntered in with all the grace and finesse of a rampaging bull, cradling a small, dark-haired toddler in her arm. She was certainly something to behold; a tall, long-haired beauty with assets that would make a supermodel green with envy. But not Weiss. Weiss Schnee did not envy such...such impeding, useless bags of flesh!

She was followed by a- much more respectively proportioned- black-haired young woman, with a pair of cat ears adorning the top of her scalp.

Another Faunus.

How many damned people planned on crawling out of the woodwork?

"Good evening, Atlas— Woahhh... Check out the dress. Fan-_cay_!~ Think it comes in 'blood-free'?" The blonde casually bonked the Faunus on the shoulder with her metal-capped stump.

Hold up. Her stump?

Weiss rubbed her good eye, almost as if to confirm that the woman standing before her truly was an amputee; only to internally wince as she realized that she had been staring at the woman's injury far longer than was probably acceptable.

"Yang, you're going to wake up the entire province." The noirette of the duo muttered, delivering a quick flick against the blonde's temple, eliciting a soft 'ow!' from her companion.

Jaune rolled his eyes, "Where's your arm?"

"Eh, think I left it up Blake's—"

"Yang!"

Yang only shrugged, the Faunus' vitriolic glare dripping off of her like water.

"That's..._disgusting_." Weiss muttered, finally finding her voice.

"Ooh, Princess thinks I'm disgusting!" Yang dramatically swooned against Blake, nearly sending both them, and the child, onto the floor in the process, "My heart! It's been wounded! I need mouth to mouth!"

"Not happening."

"My name isn't Princess!" Weiss protested, jumping off of the kitchen table to jab a thumb against her _perfectly acceptable_ chest, "I am Weiss Schnee, and I expect to be addressed as such; not _Princess_!"

"Schnee?" Blake was the one to respond to the white-haired woman, "_You're_ the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company?"

"One and the same!..." Weiss felt a smug smirk threatening to crawl onto her face as she gave a confident nod, "I'm glad _someone_ around here finally recognizes the importance of that n—"

Everything went white.

When Weiss finally came back to her senses, she found herself on her knees gasping desperately for breath, doing what she could to not wretch. A loud curse echoed throughout the room as Jaune shot off of his mark, grabbing Blake's leg with a grunt, throwing her against the kitchen counter with a yell of protest.

Ha. Served that damned Faunus right, Weiss thought, desperately trying to not empty her stomach onto the kitchen fl—

"_Ulp!..."_

Dammit.

"Woah! Woah, Kitty-Cat! Claws away!"

Blake seemed to find the damage she had done to Weiss acceptable, swirling around to stalk out without a single word, followed in close pursuit by a fuming Yang.

"What the hell was that?!" The blonde's voice echoed from the other side of the entranceway- and she was none too happy with her companion's behavior by the sound of it.

"It's her fault!..."

"Nothing's her fault! You can't just go around round-house kickin' people for no reason!" Yang spat, "Jaune's supposed t'be protecting her! Don't go and make his job harder on him!..."

"No reason?..."

Yang's voice rose in pitch, almost as if she was in complete disbelief at the noirette's actions, "Blake, that was way outta line!..."

"Kuo Kuana!"

It was a simple phrase; the name of a settlement, most likely. Four syllables. And yet, Weiss could sense without a hint of doubt, the magnitude behind the noirette's cry.

"I know! I was there, remember?!"

"Then leave me the hell alone!..."

"You'n I both know that isn't gonna happen!"

Some annoying grumbling occurred beyond the door, accompanied by the toddler giggling gleefully, no doubt thinking that Blake's huffing about was little more than a game.

"Blake, stop!" It was Yang's voice again, only this time it sounded...tired. Weary. As if she had run a marathon in those few moments of quiet. "This isn't what they would've wanted!-..."

"They didn't _want_ to evacuate from their villages in the middle of the night!... They didn't _want_ to fight in the War!" Blake's own voice quaked violently, as if it's owner was ready to burst at the seams, "And _none of them_ wanted to spend the last few seconds of their lives crawling around in the dirt, digging dismembered children out of a bombed-out hut!"

It was at these words that Weiss turned to Jaune, who's face was set like stone, even as he knelt next to her, gently rubbing her back. There was no shift this time. Just stone.

"What's...Kuo Kuana?"

She heard Jaune take a breath, sparing only a moment to glance down at her...

Before he stood and turned away.

She was alone only moments later. Left with little more than her thoughts once more.

Instead of dwelling upon them as she had beforehand though, she instead opted to make her way over to the end of the kitchen by the window, staring out at the gentle snowfall outside. It was something she had found she had taken a liking to over the years, whenever the world got just a bit too chaotic for her liking. It never got old; watching the seemingly endless supply of snowflakes gently flirting towards the ground, like millions of fairies floating down to the earth below in some sort of enthrallingly beautiful dance.

At least, looking out into the wilderness of Atlas, she could be at peace- if only for a moment.

And that...that was when she saw _her_.

There, illuminated through the peaceful snowfall by little more than moonlight, a figure stood; it's form swaying hypnotically back and forth with the gentle breeze. They were almost impossible to spot, clad as they were in that all-encompassing white cloak, but Weiss could just barely make them out in the haze of snow and fog.

Klein had regaled her with stories of the spirits of the fallen as a child, stalking through the infinite boughs of Atlas' forests, waiting to strike out at unsuspecting travelers. Perhaps they had only been meant to galvanize her imagination, but right now? Right now the only thing getting excited was her spiking heart-rate.

She hastily hobbled her way out to the common room, gasping for air each time her newly injured stomach protested against such brash movement.

The moment she crossed into the common room, Blake looked like she was just about ready to continue her 'greeting', only to halt as Weiss threw her finger towards the door, pointing wildly as she gasped out a desperate, "The door!..."

Seemingly, as if obeying the heiress' command, the front door suddenly swung open with an accompanying blast of frigid winds, and all at once the common room fell into a ghostly silence that seemed to last an eternity.

"So..."

Every single soul in the room was rooted in place, and for just a moment, Weiss could have sworn she felt her heart make a concerted effort to burst through her sternum.

At least...until the figure stepped out of the blinding veil of the snowfall, and she was met with a pair of tender silver eyes staring back at her.

"Who's our guest?"


	7. Chapter 7: Outburst

Blood in the Snow Chapter 7: Outburst

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**Hello again! **

**Yeah, this chapter shot out _quickly_. I had pretty much the entire day to myself, and I figured I would just knock out the next chapter of this, since my sick and twisted mind is apparently just...unable to function without the dopamine hit I get from leaving you all with cliffhangers that make you want to hit me over the with a brick. Oh well, guess I'll just wear a helmet.**

**Oh, and a bit of a note for those curious as to why I decided to include Summer instead of Ruby, don't worry. She isn't just present for the sake of having her present. Every person in the story so far has had a distinct, plot-affecting ****reason for appearing- yes, even Mr. Vasilias. But he's a subject for another time.**

** Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

**_Several Hours Later..._**

"And I believe, with that, you've been brought up to speed."

"I see..."

The harmonious sound of water dripping onto the tile of the bathroom floor finally signaled the end of Weiss' long overdue shower.

The last few hours had been a whirlwind, if nothing else.

It turned out that the so-called 'spirit of the forest' had merely been the owner of this little abode; a delightful woman that went by the name Summer. And Summer? She was about as motherly as was humanly possible, despite no more than a decade's worth of years separating the two of them.

Weiss had expected a bit of apprehension, or even disdain, from the dark-haired woman. It would have been fair, given how she had so far only managed to bleed like a stuck pig and vomit all over her kitchen floor. Instead, though, she was met with an almost overwhelming degree of hospitality that would have easily put several high-class hotel staff to shame.

She was also- thank God- normal. No needles, no guns, and no surprise roundhouse kicks. Just a simple, happy woman that seemed more than delighted to carry on a conversation, regardless of the bathroom door separating them.

"Sounds like you've had an eventful night." Summer chuckled softly as she passed a set of overly fluffed towels- white, Weiss noted- through the bathroom door with one hand, all while she daintily bobbed the young dark-haired toddler in her other arm, "How's your face feel?"

"Getting better. Doesn't sting as much," Weiss crossed the threshold out of the bathroom, doing what she could to pat-dry her impressively long hair. It was moments like this that made Weiss think her elder sister might have been onto something with that bun of hers, "I'm more concerned with how it looks."

"I'm sure this 'husband-to-be' of yours won't mind." Summer served up a coy grin as she leaned against the wall, "So, what's he like?"

"We haven't met yet."

"Ohh, from what you'd told me, I was under the impression you had been meeting with him-..."

"That's not for a few weeks." Weiss offered a dismissive wave, along with an accompanying smile, "I met with his father tonight, to discuss the logistics of it all."

"Logistics?"

"Prenups, surname retention...heirs." Weiss felt a harsh shiver run up her spine, like a venomous snake slowly poising itself to strike out at her carotid artery, "The usual fare."

"The usual? Sounds pretty _un_usual to me." Summer affectionately ruffled her toddler's hair, eliciting a lighthearted giggle from the little tyke, "Aside from heirs of course. Isn't that right, my little Rose?"

She leaned over pressing her forehead against the toddler's. It was adorable, though Weiss would never admit it, watching the two of them; even if it did send a lance of envy through her chest.

This..._this_ is what a mother-daughter relationship was supposed to be like. No tutors watching over them, ready to drag the daughter away for early morning lessons. No impersonal nods that somehow were meant to convey affection, only full-blown hugs that spilled forth love in such overabundance that Weiss herself thought she felt a bit of that residual warmth.

That unfamiliar, foreign warmth.

"Is that her name? Rose?"

"Oh, no. It's Ruby." Summer clarified as she placed the toddler down onto the floor, leaving her to explore to her heart's content, "Our last name is Rose, so I just...took to calling her my little Rose."

Simple, yet it held a certain sentimentality that far outweighed a more generic nickname. Weiss could appreciate that.

It was only moments before the two women found themselves slowly trailing behind the exploring toddler, as if in a trance, watching as she made her way down the carpet-covered stairs with an almost disturbing amount of ease.

Their little chase ended at the top of the stairs once a hand flew out, stopping Weiss before she could accidentally make the terrifyingly embarrassing error of strolling down to the common room in little more than a towel.

And thank God she had, because not a moment after Ruby had completed her stair-based odyssey to the common room, a blur of black and ginger rushed by like a screamy cyclone.

"Pizza!" It was Cardin who spoke up first, his hands in the air as he phantom-strangled the annoyed-looking feline Faunus that stalked only feet behind him.

"Salmon cakes!"

"Pizza!"

"Salmon cakes!"

Dear Lord, it was like watching two brain-damaged chimps fighting over the last banana.

"I'm makin' pizza, cat-ears!" Cardin spat, giving Blake's shoulder a rough prod.

"Oh-ho-ho, so now we're starting with the racist comments, Meathead?" Blake hissed- _hissed_\- at the young man, rushing up to meet him face to fa— face to pectorals.

"Aw, did I offend da poor wittle kitty?" Cardin seemed more than content with the height difference, staring down at the cat Faunus with a grin that practically radiated smugness.

"No, but if you keep it up, I can think of a certain bunny that probably won't be hopping on you anytime soon!"

"Hey!" Ooh, judging by _that_ reaction, Velvet was a bit of a soft spot for Cardin. "Least I can't be confused for something between someone's legs!"

"At least I _have_ something between my legs!"

"...Wait, what?"

"You know what I meant, Meathead!"

"I _knew_ you seemed manly for a reas— _OW_!"

Welp. Guess that height difference wasn't _all_ peaches and cream.

"Finish that sentence, I dare you!" Blake cracked her knuckles dangerously, looming over the crouching Cardin like a hyena ready to rip apart a wounded gazelle.

"Why are you so aggressive tonight?!"

"Cool it, guys!" Jaune, the only apparent voice of reason present in the room, finally yelled from the couch by the television, "And no more Faunus jokes 'round the kid!"

"Yeah, don't make fun've 'em! They're _purr_-fect just the way they are!"

"Goddamnit, Yang!"

Weiss and Summer silently watched the ongoing chaos from the top of the stairs, a look of disgust and bemusement respectively plastered onto their faces.

"They're certainly a...unique bunch."

"They are, and I love each and every one of them." Summer's smile was damn near infectious, "Even still, I should get to cooking before they settle their argument the usual way."

"The usual way?"

"Property destruction."

"Ah."

"Will you be joining us?" Summer inquired, throwing an expectant glance the heiress' way.

"I...believe I shall, actually." Weiss agreed, her hand drifting towards her bruised stomach, "I indulged in a small bowl of soup back at Le Chevalier Blanc, but-..."

Summer's smile slowly slid away from her face as she followed Weiss' gaze down to a particular noirette, who had long since abandoned her battle with Cardin in favor of doting on little Ruby with a riveting round of '_yank-the-cat-ears_'.

"...I apologize for Blake's behavior." Summer lightly pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head sadly, "She's a sweet person, really, she just-..."

Weiss held up a hand, "It's fine, Ms. Rose. _You_ have nothing to apologize for."

"Still, everyone should be safe under my roof, no matter their name." A comforting hand rested upon Weiss' damp shoulder, "I can assure you, you won't be attacked like that again."

"It's supposed to be Jaune's job to assure me of that." Weiss chuckled, earning a quick eye-roll from Summer.

"Judging from the state of my kitchen, it looks like he did."

Weiss shrugged nonchalantly, "Speaking of that dolt, I'll need to speak with him as soon as possible; before we eat, preferably."

"Any reason, if you don't mind my asking?"

"He and Cardin have radios that are connected to the Schnee Dust Company Headquarters." Weiss replied, her hand coming up to once again prod at her wound, "I'm sure my family is worried for my safety."

Or at least...Winter probably was.

"Alright," Summer began to make her way down the stairs, "Spare clothes are in the room behind you. Dinner will be in about an hour, assuming nothing blows up."

"Oh, come on, that's a bit hyperbolic, Miss Rose."

Summer's deadpan stare was all she needed to understand that her words were that of an ignorant fool.

* * *

Half an hour later, Weiss had somehow finally gotten her hair under control and slipped into the old clothes that Summer had provided her. Once again white, though she couldn't help but notice the small sky-blue detailing that decorated the sleeves of her borrowed shirt. Her favorite color.

This woman was either psychic, or was able to read people like an open book.

If it had been anyone else, in any other situation, Weiss would have been beside herself with paranoia. If this woman honestly knew just how valuable skills such as hers were in a boardroom, she would be able to set her own father's nerves on edge. Instead? Instead, she was the honorary 'house mother' of a small group of deranged lunatics with a kicking fetish, milling away her days in a quaint little house, instead of a cold, impersonal boardroom.

Weiss was comfortable enough to admit, at least to herself, that she held at least a small sliver of jealousy for the woman. To be able to spend the days surrounded by a loving, trustworthy bunch of people, rather than the conniving, lecherous bunch that Weiss had grown so accustomed to... It was something to be envied; if only a bit.

It was because of this strange air of comfort that radiated through the house that Weiss found herself idly plodding away through the halls of the home, allowing herself to take her sweet time on her way to the common room. She was, for the first time in far too long, able to just let her guard slip; if only for a few, sweet minutes.

Eventually, though, she inevitably found herself standing within the darkened common room. The only thing illuminating the otherwise pitch-black chamber was the massive flatscreen television that sat in the middle of the room, it's screen emitting an almost offensively harsh light. And that was where she found Jaune, along with the rest of the group- excluding Summer, of course, who was happily going about her business in the kitchen- hunched over in their seats as the television chattered away.

"Arc. We need to—"

"Hold on."

"Hold?-..." Weiss found herself hesitating as she stared down at the young man, eventually opting to shift her eyes to the harsh light of the television, where Jaune's attention was firmly pinned.

_"In other news, recent riots have escalated to a fever pitch, resulting in several pockets of violence breaking out within Atlas proper. One incident in particular, a mob gathering outside of the high-end restaurant 'Le Chevalier Blanc' has left three college students dead; two of which were- according to eyewitness statements- reported to be brother and sister."_

Weiss found herself unable to tear her gaze away. Not from the screen, but from Jaune, who could have easily passed for a lifeless statue, with how eerily still he was as he watched the news anchor drone on disinterestedly.

_"All three protestors are being treated as potential inviters to violence, and as a result, while we have been able to glean a detail or two from eyewitnesses, their identities have not been officially disclosed by the Atlesian Police Department. This is Grifford Sterling, with Atlas News."_

"So... Brother an' sister, huh?..." Jaune's voice was a hoarse shell of its usual self as the blonde tapped the edge of the table with a mug of what was presumably coffee, "Barely out've high-school."

There was silence. No one seemed to find it fit to speak. Instead, only sympathetic looks and understanding frowns from every angle were sent in the young man's direction.

"Barely out've high-school..."

And then...there was ceramic soaring through the air. The coffee impacted against the nearby wall with a loud crash that very nearly made Weiss jump right out of her skin.

Even as the remnants of Jaune's drink dripped down the wall, Weiss found herself fighting every urge to back out of the room.

Of course, even if she had obeyed her instinctual side, she would have only succeeded in bumping into Summer, who damn-near flew into the room like the supermom she was continuously proving herself to be.

Unfortunately, it wasn't Summer who found their voice first, but Yang, who gave a low whistle as she admired the coffee stain marring the wallpaper.

"We're just a whole circus of emotional baggage tonight, ain't we?" She quipped with all the tact and grace that Weiss was quickly coming to expect from these people.

That seemed to be enough to shake Jaune out of whatever daze he had thrust himself in, and with a hasty 'sorry' towards Summer, the blonde retreated, making his way out of the room as fast as his legs would carry him.

"Yang, watch the dinner." Summer jabbed a finger towards the kitchen, "I'm going after him."

"Sure thing."

With a final nod, Summer too was off her mark, pursuing the retreating blonde like a bloodhound.

"Gonna go after'm?"

Weiss found her attention drawn to Cardin, who was jabbing his thumb towards the kitchen.

At first, she was frozen on the spot. Why in the world was Cardin even suggesting such a ridiculous idea? To go after Jaune would be a social faux pas of the highest caliber. They were hardly friends. To even call them acquaintances would be a humungous stretch. She was not at all qualified to deal with this little outburst...

But Summer was. Yes, Weiss rationalized, Summer would be able to take care of—

"Well?"

It was Blake who had piped up this time, her feline eyes seemingly glowing in contrast to the darkness surrounding them. As if her eyes were boring into the heiress' very soul.

"Are you going to go after him? Or are you Schnees as cold-hearted as they say?"

She was correct, much as Weiss loathed to admit it. Most in her family, her father especially, would see this as a non-event. An inconvenience. Her father would merely let someone else take care of the issue _for_ him. Her father would merely back sit on the couch and wait for further developments.

And she...she was _not_ her father.


	8. Chapter 8: Invisible Scars

Blood in the Snow Chapter 8: Invisible Scars

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**Heyo! Nothing too much to say this time around, so I won't blab on like a chatter-box. Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

The pleasant sound of crunching snow below boots was the first signal Jaune received to another's presence as he stood there, leaning against the great bough of an old tree.

"Thought I'd find you out here."

Summer, then. That's who had been crazy enough to follow him all the way out here, in the middle of a brumal Atlesian night.

He honestly shouldn't have been surprised, he thought as his gaze trailed over to the small headstone perched peacefully in the center of the small grove. He, Yang, and Summer were the only ones that ever came out here, to this little spot, anymore.

"I'm sorry," He began, refusing to meet her silver gaze, even as she strode up next to him, "I'll get you a new mug—"

"I'm not concerned with the cup," Summer placed her hand upon the blonde's shoulder, her motherly tone as disarming as ever, "Right now I'm concerned about you."

"I just got overwhelmed, I guess." Jaune shrugged as his own azure gaze slowly trailed up into the starry night sky that looked down upon them; a veritable ocean of twinkling light, casting their rays upon the frigid lands below.

There were days he wished he could be as carefree as the stars that shone down upon them. How serene it must be to watch the problems of the world, far above the chaos of it all. To be able to see it all with perfect clarity.

It would be a truly wonderful experience to be granted the opportunity to dance amongst those twinkling stars.

A childish notion, to be sure, but on nights like this, when he could stare unimpeded into the heavens? Perhaps, he thought, it wouldn't be as harmful as all that to indulge in his ridiculous little fantasy...just a bit.

"Are you worried about the legal ramifications?" Summer asked, pulling the blonde away from his thoughts.

"No... I was operating within legal boundaries." His eyes never left those sky-bound stars. That infinite plane of shimmering light. "If there are any issues, then the Schnee Dust Company will take care of them."

"Then what's the problem?"

"You know what the problem is, Sum..."

Were they watching him, from up there? Those young lives that his bullets had so callously ripped from the world of the living. Were they still angry? Enraged at their untimely demise?

Or had they forgiven him? Had they found peace?

He hoped so.

"Sometimes you have to take one life to save another." Summer knelt down, her bare fingers brushing against the gelid, rimy granite of the grave, "That's what Tai always said..."

"That doesn't make it any easier."

"I know." Summer sighed as she stood, "I know..."

Jaune hummed, his eyes suddenly trailing back towards the path from which Summer had made her entrance.

"I'm gonna go for a hike." He mumbled, a sudden edge in his voice, "Save me a plate, would'ja?"

"Sure. Stay safe."

Only once he was suitably out of earshot did Summer whirl around on her heel, smirking as a few of the snow-covered shrubs suddenly froze.

"You might as well come out now, Weiss."

A few more seconds of rustling filled Summer's ears before the young woman in question strode out into the open, her eyes following the path that Jaune had taken deeper into the forest.

"How did you?-..."

"Jaune noticed you." Summer too glanced off in the direction Jaune had disappeared off to, "Didn't seem to want to make a scene of it though."

"What was all of that?" Weiss arced a brow as she came up to take Jaune's place by Summer's side.

"...Jaune— All of them..." Summer paused as she seemed to search for the will to cast out the words that danced upon the tip of her tongue, "They're dealing with emotions that you an' I don't have to."

"You make it sound like he's an old war veteran." Weiss scoffed.

"..."

"...Summer?"

Weiss risked a glance over, only to see Summer's eyes locked upon the grave in front of them. Her expression had dampened, despite the smile never leaving her face.

And that was when it hit her like a bolt of lightning.

It all made sense now; all of it. Why his demeanor was a hollow representation of the carefree Jaune she remembered. Why, in his place, stood a young man that carried himself with a forlorn despondency that sent a spike of genuine discomfort throughout the heiress every time the light left his eyes.

He had never changed. Change had nothing to do with the Jaune she had been reacquainted with. The Jaune she knew now...was nothing but a fractured representation of the young man that he had once been.

"He took part in the war, yes..." Summer confirmed, "I'm surprised he hasn't told you."

_I wasn't wiling away anything, Miss Schnee, I was—_

_Doing nothing that you could hope to hold my attention with._

"I...suppose I never afforded him much of a chance."

"Mmm... You should."

Weiss' gaze drifted to her feet. She hadn't even bothered to look at him as she cast away any illusion of camaraderie between them. Boy, was she paying for that little quip in spades.

"Were you there, as well?" She asked, earning naught but a soft shake of the head from the redhead.

"No. No, my husband was."

"Was?..."

Summer's pale hand gently gestured towards the headstone that lay unmoving before them, her hand trembling as her silver eyes met the grey stone.

"Taiyang Xiao Long. Commander of ODA Team 'Huntsmen' in the Atlas Armed Forces, killed-in-action during the Battle of Kuo Kuana." If Summer truly was fighting just to keep her hand still, then that said volumes about how much mental fortitude it was taking to keep her voice steady, "He was 37 years old, leaving behind a wife, and two daughters."

"37?" Weiss sputtered, giving the other woman a thorough once over, "I apologize for my bluntness, but you hardly-..."

"Look like I'm in my thirties?" Summer let out a dry chuckle, "You'd be right. I'm turning 29 next week."

Weiss could only stare in utter disbelief at the woman.

"...Wha?-... No! No!" Summer scrambled, throwing her hands in the air, "We met when I was 24!"

"Still weird..."

"Aren't you about to get married to a guy you haven't even met?"

"Touché." Weiss relented, slinging her arms across her chest, "So Yang?-..."

"Was the result of a few mistakes Tai made when he was a teenager." Summer balanced back on the balls of her feet as she spoke, "Her mother disappeared a few days after she was born."

"Must be awkward between you two."

"It was at first," Summer shrugged, "But then she tried my cooking."

"That good?"

"I've been told I'm the only person who's harnessed the ability to cook like _everyone's_ mother."

"I wouldn't know."

"Hmm?"

"I wouldn't know." Weiss clarified, her own mother's visage manifesting within her mind's eye. Even the glass of rosé which seemed ever-present betwixt her dainty-...frail fingers. "My mother doesn't cook for us."

"I suppose not. Private chefs must be—"

"N-no... As in," Weiss interrupted, "I just...don't see my mother often, so '_Mom's Cooking_' isn't exactly something I'm all too familiar with."

"Hmm." There was a prolonged pause, before a melodic giggle filled the air, "Guess I'll just have to adopt you, too."

Weiss let out her own breath of amusement, "A serendipitous meeting for me, then."

Several minutes passed as she two stood there, in the frigid night, listening to the serene tones of the wind passing overhead. It seemed as if they had been magically pulled away; away from the world and all of it's woes. How this peaceful, silent place could possibly exist within the same plane as the chaotic violence that had swirled around her like a tornado of destruction only hours before, Weiss would never understand.

"...If you don't mind my asking something so personal," She began, the hesitation clogging her throat for what seemed like an eternity, "Aren't you...resentful towards the Faunus for taking your husband from you?"

"No. No, I could never hold ill will for them."

"Why?"

"Because it wasn't the Faunus that killed my husband..." Summer shook her head, her focus locked upon the rime-caked grave, "It was an SDC Sentinel Drone."

_And none of them wanted to spend the last few seconds of their lives crawling around in the dirt, digging dismembered children out of a bombed-out hut..._

"...I see."

Weiss had expected vitriol when she turned up to meet the redhead's gaze. A look of disgust. Hatred.

Instead, she received one of genuine understanding. Of a woman who had found peace with the cards that she had been dealt.

"Their orders were to take a small village on the borders of Kuo Kuana. It had been labeled as harboring a White Fang compound for some time. Unfortunately, as is all too common, the compound was surrounded by innocent people...and my husband _despised_ the idea of ever hurting an innocent person." Summer grimaced as the memories came flooding back like a poisonous tidal wave. "My husband was killed after the Sentinel drone's targeting system registered him as a threat. He and Yang were helping some of the locals dig out survivors from the last strike, and the drone's systems misidentified them as a gathering of enemy combatants... And so it-..."

Her fingers clamped around the hem of her cloak like hooks sinking into prey. Weiss could hear the woman's breath hasten as she smacked her lips, as if summoning the will to carry on.

"The moment he realized something was wrong, Tai jumped on Yang to protect her from the blast." Her voice was hoarse as she pushed the last words from her mouth with what seemed a gargantuan amount of effort, "She survived, but...he was killed instantly, along with the villagers."

Summer fell into silence as she took an opportunity to collect herself, wiping away the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

For a moment, for just a single moment, Weiss briefly considered returning the motherly gesture that Summer had shown her, to rest a reassuring hand upon her shoulder, and let her know that all would be well.

But then... How could she possibly provide any sense of reassurance? She was a stranger. A nobody in this woman's life. How could one possibly take warmth from something so impersonal?

"After the war was over, they came back to Atlas, and helped set up this little community of ours."

How drastic a change must that have been for the red-head, Weiss pondered as she listened on.

"I'll never forget the night they came home and brought news of Tai's death. I cried and cried all night until I passed out on the couch. I'd never felt more in my life than I did at that moment..." Summer let out a humorless chuckle as her pupils glazed over, as if she were reliving that agonizing memory all over again, "Woke up the next morning and practically threw myself down the stairs in a panic, thinking I had gone and forgotten to put Ruby to bed, or even feed her dinner. I thought she was just as alone as I'd felt..."

A smile crawled onto her face. It was small at first, barely more than a faint tilt.

"But when I got down there I found...a crowd. Ruby was bouncing on Jaune's knee while Cardin made funny faces, Yang was heating up milk, and Blake and Velvet were desperately trying to organize breakfast for everyone. Emphasis on the 'trying'."

That smile evolved into a small fit of giggles, with Weiss quickly joining in; the heiress unable to hold in her laughter at the conjured image of Jaune and the others trying their hand at impromptu childcare.

"I asked 'why'. Why were they all there? Why weren't they back in Atlas proper, getting the recognition they deserved for their deeds?" Summer clapped her hands against her thighs as she bowed her head softly, "The only answer I ever got was; 'Because we're family'."

"That was the moment I realized that Tai hadn't left me alone," Summer gestured to the grave before them once more, "He'd only gone and left me a whole family to rely on."

"And you're positive they weren't just seizing the opportunity to hole up somewhere rent-free?"

"Rent-free? If anyone here is living rent-free, it's me. I get to be the '_Number One Stay at Home Mom_' I always wanted to be." The red-head explained, "The girls all insisted on running my bakery for me, and Jaune and Cardin immediately began hunting for private security positions."

A bakery? Summer had run a bakery? Huh, maybe Weiss did have to try some of her cooking sometime.

"And that's when they looked to join the Schnee Dust Company's Counter-Assault Bodyguard unit." Weiss guessed, earning a nod.

"...I'll never pretend that I'll ever be alright about losing my husband. I miss him every day," Summer's gaze hardened with a sparkle of determination, "But I'm eternally grateful for the family I gained as a result of that tragedy."

Lose a single piece, yet gain nearly half a dozen in the process. Pragmatically speaking, it was a complete victory for Summer.

In the back of her mind- a small, dark corner of her mind- Weiss idly considered whether her father would take that deal-...

Oh, who was she kidding? Of course he would.

He would willingly strike that deal without a second's hesitation. Summer had never been given the choice, and yet she still expressed disgust at the mere thought of viewing the situation in such a calculated manner.

But then...what did that say about Weiss' own family? Did she even _have_ family like that, past her elder sister?

She had never gotten along particularly well with her younger brother, and her parents? They resembled commissars more than they ever did parental figures, lashing out whenever she would dare to display even the slightest hint of what Summer would no doubt consider mere human error.

"Can I see?"

"Hm?"

"Ruby's father. Do you have a picture of him?"

Summer nodded, pulling out her phone.

"The tall one in the middle, there."

When the screen came into view, Weiss felt her breath snag in her throat.

Nothing seemed all too out of the ordinary about the picture at first; a family-style group photo at the rather compact dinner table that adorned the Rose home's kitchen, each and every participant looking at the camera with goofy faces.

Jaune was there, along with Cardin, looking just as she had remembered them from her days back at Beacon High, along with Summer and Yang flanking either side of the head of the table.

But it was the one in the middle, the one Summer had pointed out, that gave Weiss pause.

"That looks like-..."

"Jaune? Yeah. We always jokingly referred to him as Tai's other _other_ kid." Summer giggled as she tapped her nail against the illuminated screen, "From right to left, it's Cardin, Yang, Tai, Me, and Jaune."

"Where are Blake and Velvet?"

"Joined during the war. I guess you could say they were...'armed refugees'."

Tactful way of saying insurgents, but whatever.

"They hardly look like a unit of trained killers."

"That's the irony of it all." Summer replied as she turned back to the tree-line that separated the little grove from the warm, glowing house just a few hundred meters back, "I don't think you'd be able to find a group of people that care more for the scarcity of life than the ones back in that house."

Weiss' hand found itself drawn to her stomach. If that was Blake's way of showing scarcity towards life, then Lord help whoever she wanted to _kill_.

"War has a way of twisting people, twisting their love for each other. Each and every day you see people that you care for dying all around you. You're expected to just pick up and move on from what you saw." Summer herself seemed to grow weary with the words passing from her lips, her voice dropping to little more than a whisper as her gaze fell to her husband's gravestone, "Eventually you stop caring. You stop caring for people to your right and to your left because you're scared of watching another person you've learned to care for be ripped from the world in the most gruesome ways imaginable."

Her finger found her phone's sleep button, and once again the pair were plunged into the starlit darkness of the night.

"And that was Jaune's problem. He's just like Tai, in that regard. He never learned how to stop caring." She continued, "Long past everyone else had desensitized themselves to the situation, Jaune still cared. Over and over he was hit by the raw sting of losing friends."

"Over and over he took more and more damage to that pure heart of his..." Summer whispered, shaking her head despondently, "And now? Now I'm just worried that he's doing whatever he can to protect the few people he has left...even to the detriment of what few strands of sanity are keeping him anchored."

"He never _had_ me."

"I haven't known you all that long, but I can assure you, you've made that abundantly clear."

Her tone wasn't harsh. No. It was as warm and understanding as it had ever been. But her words? Her words cut, and she knew it.

"Go find him." Summer instructed, motioning towards the path Jaune had taken, deeper into the woods, "I think the two've you are long overdue for a talk."

"Yes... I believe we are." Weiss agreed.

With one final preparatory breath, the heiress began her journey towards the tree line, doing her very best to ignore the pit rapidly forming in her stomach as she began stepping over a host of dead weeds and branches that—

"Weiss!"

The heiress turned, tilting her head.

"I don't think I can take losing anyone else." Summer admitted, throwing the alabaster-haired young woman a desperate smile, "So, please... Bring Jaune back to us..."

Weiss gave the woman a nod, disappearing into the tree line only moments later.

It was only after she had disappeared that Summer finally let the dam break, falling to her knees before her husband's grave, the tears falling freely upon the icy granite.

"Please, bring him back..."


	9. Chapter 9: Stranger I Knew

Blood in the Snow Chapter 9: Stranger I Knew

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**With this chapter, we are officially finished the first Arc of the story!... Yep. Still infected.**

**But yes, with this chapter we finally reach the end of the Frigid arc, and move onto the Stars arc! Glad everyone's been enjoying everything so far!**

**The next chapter will take a little longer than average to come out, since there's a bit of a tidal wave of college work headed my way, but hopefully it won't be delayed any more than a few days- maybe a week.**

* * *

This was insanity.

Here she was, wandering around in the middle of the night like a common bandit, doing her best to not think about the extremely distinct possibility that she would just end up missing Jaune entirely.

He had apparently been a soldier, after all. If he didn't want to be found, Weiss doubted there would be all that much she could do about it.

Thankfully, either by dumb luck or divine intervention, the young man hadn't opted to hide, and when Weiss finally caught sight of his blonde mop rustling back and forth nearby, she let out a breath of relief she hadn't even realized she had been holding in.

"I said I was just going for a walk, Summer." He spoke out as she drew near, never turning from...whatever he was doing, "I promise I won't run off or any—"

"Summer left."

His posture seized up as his gaze snapped back to the heiress. It was when he did that she finally bore witness to what he was paying such close attention to. To what he was choosing to devote his focus upon, instead of _her_.

A little fawn, firmly snagged in a rather unfriendly looking thorn bush, it's leg steadily trickling blood as it weakly struggled against its injurious bonds.

But the deer wasn't the only one bleeding. Oh, no. The blood running from Jaune's fingertips was clearly visible in the moonlit night, cascading onto the pristine snow below like a leaking faucet. The only reprieve for both human and deer were the makeshift bandages that loosely covered their wounds, wrapped with the care of a concussed drunkard. Torn scraps of Jaune's sweatshirt sleeves, Weiss realized.

"You'll catch a cold out here."

The irony was suffocating.

"Father said to have a bodyguard by my side at all times." Weiss strode over slowly, careful to not startle the little fawn, "In this case, I'm inclined to agree with him."

"'Course you are." Jaune muttered sardonically.

Weiss bit her tongue as she stared down at the scowling young man, resisting the urge to kick off their 'heartfelt conversation' by slapping the blonde right out of his hair.

It seemed that all pretenses of diplomacy had gone out the window for the young man, who had long since reverted his attention back to his thankless task, which meant that she would be the one who would have to extend the olive branch between them. Sure, no problem. She could do that.

Hopefully.

"Listen, Miss Schnee, I understand that I'm technically supposed to be guarding you, but I'm not in a particularly talkative mood, so—"

"The Battle of Kuo Kuana."

Jaune's fingers froze mid-tug-of-war with one of the thorny vines, finally turning to face Weiss with an arched brow.

"You were there." She clarified.

Jaune turned back to the deer, resuming his struggle with the branches, "I was."

"...What was it like?"

"Hell. Next question."

Okay. Fumbled at the start. No big deal. She could recover from this. Her father hadn't dragged her through years of diplomatic tutelage to be felled by a moody, college-aged buffoon with a!—

No. Nice. Be nice.

No slapping the blonde out of anyone's hair.

"Are you planning to turn around and talk to me sometime tonight?"

Okay, perhaps not the nic_est_ way of putting it, but at least it was better than what she wanted to say.

With an ear rattling snap, the branches keeping the deer trapped within their clutches finally gave way to Jaune's yanking. Like a shot, the deer was off its mark, bounding deeper into the forests with the torn remnants of Jaune's sweatshirt sleeve still bound around its leg.

He rose to his feet without a word, his blonde mop nearly snagging on several low-hanging branches as he strode over to the heiress, until they were no more than a few feet apart.

It was times like this she really cursed being 5'3.

Even as they stared each other down, Weiss couldn't help but notice the steady stream of blood still dripping onto the snow, slowly staining the ground under Jaune's hands a crimson hue that sent her stomach into a nosedive. "You're bleeding."

"...Why did you stand up earlier, after I explicitly told you not to?"

Alright. No beating around the bush, then. Fine.

"Because I wanted to leave." She explained, motioning to her wounded eye, "They were throwing _rocks_ at us."

"No. It's 'cause you didn't want to listen to me." Jaune swiftly countered, "You wanted to prove that you knew more than me. That you're somehow _superior_."

"That's not!—"

"Weiss..." Jaune's deadly calm tone was enough to whisk the heiress' voice right from her throat, "People are dead- _dead_\- because you opted to throw yourself out in the open like that."

"A-Are you insinuating that them dying is somehow my fault?!"

"No."

"Well good, because—"

"It's mine."

Oh.

"It's my fault." He repeated, his tone even as could be, even as he threw his head up, his eyes locked upon the stars, "I'm the one that pulled the trigger. I'm the one who's going to have to wake up every morning, living with the reality that _I'm_ the reason their parents don't have children anymore."

Okay. Not what she had been expecting. But they had been assailants. They were a threat, and they were dealt with in accordance with the level of threat they had presented.

Goddamnit, why was her chest so tight?

"You shouldn't blame yourself for that. You did your job." Weiss reasoned, taking a tentative step towards the young man in an attempt to further close the gap, "They were attacking us."

"That doesn't mean they deserved to die."

"Then why did you shoot them?"

"To protect you."

Weiss winced, her teeth digging into her bottom lip as she awkwardly toyed with her hands.

"Like you said... I was just doing my job." Jaune continued as he dropped his gaze back down to the silver-haired woman, "But that doesn't make the lives I had to take mean any less."

"...I know."

"Do you?"

Weiss sighed, her eyes trailing down to the blood-stained snow.

She could sympathize, really, she could. But they couldn't just stay here, moping about the past for the foreseeable future. They had business to attend to. She had to return to the Schnee estate as soon as she possibly could.

There were meetings to organize and plans to make for the upcoming wedding, presuming Mr. Vasilias had escaped the wrathful mob. She would have to meet with his son, and of course have at least an introductory meal with him.

Her father would want to throw a celebratory ball in honor of her betrothal as well, no doubt. That would be its own headache. Hands to shake, connections to solidify, and futures to forge.

All of that would require security, especially with the spiking pockets of violence sprouting up around the city, and right now one of her only two bodyguards looked as if he was about ready to throw himself from a cliff.

"Arc, about the upcoming celebrations in regards to my marriage-..."

Turned out, as she would later recall, those were exactly the _wrong_ words to start with.

"I couldn't give a damn about your marriage right now," Jaune threw his head back with an exasperated groan, "Even if you paid me to."

"I do."

"But not t'give a damn."

"Excuse me?!"

"Look, if all you're gonna do is argue with me, then just go back to the house." He spat as he turned away, kneeling down to finally focus on the wounds covering his fingertips.

"Not without my bodyguard!" She stamped her foot angrily, sending a pathetic looking puff of snow into the air.

"Well, maybe I don't feel like _guarding_ much of anything at the moment!"

"Is that why you're out here sulking like a child?!"

"I'm the child? _I'm_ the child?!" Jaune shot up like a bullet, whirling around to face his client with anger burning in his eyes, "This is coming from the one who decided to start throwing shoes at Cardin and I when we came to introduce ourselves!"

"That has nothing to do with this!"

"It has everything to do with this!"

"Arc!—"

"You just don't know when to quit, do you?!" Apparently not, but Weiss was sure he was about to let her know on no uncertain terms, "You just waltz through life, not a care in the world, without the slightest inkling of thought towards other people! Have you ever taken _anyone's_ word into consideration unless they had some sort of authority over you?!"

Weiss paused. Well, there was her butler, Klein!... Klein was!-...

"You insult me every time you speak to me, you verbally and physically attack others because they're 'below you'! You had the audacity to refuse help from someone who just wanted to fix your bleeding eye because she's got _animal ears_!" Jaune looked just about ready to explode, "How obstinate can you be?! It took nearly twenty minutes-_ twenty minutes_\- of arguing to get you to sit still so Velvet could stitch your face shut, all because she was a Faunus!"

"The Faunus are the entire reason that I'll have a massive scar on my face for the rest of my life!" Weiss deflected, her own face red with rage.

"And a Schnee Dust Drone is the reason Yang doesn't have an arm anymore!" Jaune shook his head, "A Schnee drone is the reason Blake had to watch her parents die in front of her!"

He jabbed his finger back towards the house.

"A Schnee drone is the reason Summer has to raise Ruby without a father!..."

"I'm not the one that sent those drones over!"

"And Velvet's not the one who split your eye open!" Jaune countered.

"Blake kicked me in the stomach for my family name!" She felt tears welling in her eyes as she roughly jabbed a finger against Jaune's chest. "I've never done _anything_!"

"Yeah, it's not fun being blamed for someone else's actions, is it?"

Jaune's eyes narrowed as Weiss' hand slid from his chest, flopping down to her side as she stared up at him in stunned disbelief.

"Have you- not your father, not your sister; you- ever stopped to consider, for even one moment in your entire life, how your bullheaded actions affect others?!"

_Crack!_

All the anger, all the vitriol that had been building up in her system, exploded out of her like a rush of steam, culminating in a whiplash-inducing slap that echoed through the clearing as clearly as a gunshot.

And yet... With that explosion, her anger was released from its bonds, leaving only a hallow sadness in its wake as she struggled to look up at her bodyguard through tears stained eyes.

"What happened?!..."

She knew what happened. She had just gone and spent the better part of twenty minutes chatting away with Summer about that very topic. Yet...a large part of her didn't want to accept it. Accept that he was broken.

Accept that the Jaune she knew was gone.

"...What happened to the dolt I used to know?"

...

No. No, to hell with that. She would drag his old self back into the light by the earlobe if she had to.

The old Jaune was in there somewhere. He had to be. All she had to do was find him.

She was brought back to reality by a weighted sigh, the blonde rubbing tender his cheek softly.

"Hey, look... I'm sorry, alright? You didn't deserve that. I just-..." He pinched the bridge of his nose as he slumped down into the bloody snow, "Tonight was just...it wasn't easy."

They agreed on that front, then.

She awkwardly joined him, doing her best to ignore the spine-tingling chill that shot up her spine as the snow quickly melted through her modest clothing, the freezing water resting against her rapidly numbing thighs.

"...I suppose I do owe you thanks, for what you did back there." Weiss admitted, her fingers trailing through the marred snow, "Velvet, as well..."

Jaune nodded, an exhausted sigh escaping his chapped lips as his gaze returned to the stars.

Those beautiful stars...

They sat there for what seemed like hours, silent as could be. All that encompassed Jaune's vision was the endless reaches of the cosmos, shimmering down upon them.

After a few minutes of that comfortable silence, Jaune finally turned to her, only to find she had opted to watch the cosmos along with him.

Maybe, in some strange way, he was finally looking at one of those brilliant stars up close.

She was as beautiful as any star could ever be. He could never deny that, no matter what anger boiled in his veins. She was just as beautiful as any star could ever hope to be...and just as unreachable.

Just as unattainable.

"I don't _hate_ the Faunus." Her voice broke through the serene stillness that had settled over the pair.

"Hmm?"

"I don't hate them," Weiss hesitated as she turned to Jaune, "I'm...scared of them."

"Scared?"

"When I was a child, I constantly overheard the talk of assassinations and muggings. Even before the War, the Faunus had little love for the Schnee Dust Company..." Weiss recalled as she brought her knees up to her chin, "It seemed like a weekly occurrence. I'd be strolling by my father's office, and overhear how a shareholder or regional overseer had gone missing in the night, only to turn up days later with their throat slit."

Jaune sat there, motionless as the thousands of trees that surrounded the little clearing.

"I had constant nightmares growing up. Of being kidnapped by radicals, and made into an example." Weiss continued as her fingers ran through the blood-stained snow, panting her fingertips red, "I may have only been a child, but I knew all too well what they did to people like me."

Jaune had to agree there. He had borne witness to more than a few examples of the brutality that the citizens of the world- Faunus and human both- could produce. To be exposed to such things at an early age...

"Eventually it just became second nature to be wary." Weiss shrugged as she wiped the blood from her fingers against the snow, "To be afraid of everything. Every_one_. Especially once the War kicked off..."

"And so you projected that fear onto Velvet...and Blake."

"I don't want to be afraid." The heiress' replied, "I don't want _anyone_ to be afraid. But what can I do?"

"Show them."

"What?"

"You can show them that you're a 'Schnee with a Heart'. Show them that you don't follow your family's example." Jaune reasoned as his hand found the woman's back, "Show them that you're the exception."

"How can I possibly do that? My father—"

"Doesn't speak for you." Jaune interrupted, "Weiss... You aren't your father. He can't speak for you, no matter how hard he tries."

"He doesn't have to try. He's the chairman of the SDC. I'm just the heir." Weiss gave a forlorn sigh, "Who would ever listen to the princess over the king?"

"While you represent your father? No one."

"Exactly—"

"So I guess you'd better go about showing the Faunus that you're the 'Schnee with a Heart' in your own way. On your own time."

Weiss, for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day, found herself giving pause to another's words.

He was right. Blunt, but right.

Forget company ties, forget corporate alliances, if she could get the Faunus on her side-...

But still...

"You say all this like it's easy." Weiss protested, glancing over at the young man as his hand left her back, "Like it's just some simple task that I could finish in a few hours."

"Probably won't be." Jaune agreed, clapping his hands in thought, "It'll take a long time. It won't be an overnight thing, especially considering you'll be focusing on your marriage for a while."

The pit in her stomach was back. That sinking dread that had begun to eat away at her...

But why? The words he spoke were naught but truth. She would be focused on her marriage for the foreseeable future, so prioritizing anything- _anyone_\- else was...

Was...

Why was the pit in her stomach only getting worse?

"...I wouldn't worry too much though."

"Why?"

"Well, you _do_ have two've most amazing, skilled bodyguards ever." Jaune reasoned, a cocky grin adorning his face, "I mean, you saw us taking cover from you. If that wasn't a testament to our skill, then I don't know what is."

"Didn't I hit you on the head two or three times?"

"Irrelevant."

Weiss felt a smile creep it's way into her face as she gently prodded the man's shoulder, "And I distinctly remember a certain someone shrieking like a little girl, pleading with his friend to save him."

"Alright, alright. You're right," Jaune surrendered, "Cardin _could_ use some work."

Weiss found it near impossible to hold back the giggle that burst from her throat. Not the polite chortle that she had practiced over the years, kept tucked away in her arsenal for any wanna-be jokesters that attended an SDC gathering.

No. This was real laughter. Real laughter that only grew when she realized that he was smiling over at her.

The smile she remembered.

And as he sat there, smiling over at her, a small part of her realized that the pit in her stomach had vanished.

Once her laughter had finally died down, she pulled herself to her feet, doing her best to ignore the uncomfortable chill that hit the back of her legs as the frigid wind struck her damp clothes.

"Do you think we could...start over?" She asked, receiving a soft nod in return as Jaune rose.

"Sure. I think that's fair."

With all the grace afforded by years of practice, Weiss took a step back, curtsying at the young man, "Greetings. My name is Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, and your client."

"Jaune Arc." He grinned as he watched the woman come up from her little bow, offering a nod, "Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue."

Weiss sniggered, offering her hand.

"I'm afraid I've no spare shoes to throw at you in greetings," She smirked as he accepted her hand with a chuckle of his own, "Regardless, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance...Jaune."

"And yours, Weiss."

"..."

"..."

"Cold?"

"Very much so. Can we go back in now?"

* * *

It was only after the two had left that a pair of smoldering amber eyes finally shifted, their owner leaping from her perch, landing upon the snow-packed ground with all the grace and skill of a cat. She hummed softly, a small smile crawling onto her face as she watched the figures retreating off towards the cabin.

Maybe, just maybe, she had been a bit too hasty in her judgment of the Schnee heiress.

Only time would tell.


	10. Chapter 10: Frater Mortuus Est

Blood in the Snow Chapter 10: Frater Mortuus Est

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**Not too much to let you all know about this time 'round. Still pretty busy with college, but I had a few hours to spare, so I figured I'd get this out to you guys so you wouldn't be waiting for too long. Enjoy!**

* * *

**_A Few Weeks Later..._**

"What do you think, Miss Schnee?"

"It's acceptable."

"Acceptable?"

"Yes. Acceptable." The alabaster-haired woman looked as if she were about ready to throw herself from a building, "May we please move on, Klein? We've spent far too much time on this as is."

"I suppose you have a point. We still have to fix your hair." A portly mustache-man clapped his hands gleefully, "I'll return in a jiffy, Miss Schnee."

The moment the portly man scampered out of the room, Weiss allowed herself the brief respite of slumping in her chair, letting out an exhausted sigh as she gazed upon her scar in the mirror.

It had healed up well over the last few weeks, all things considered, and was now little more than the garish mar that she had so dreaded. Velvet had done her best to mitigate the size of the eventual scar, but even she was forced to capitulate that the heiress' face would never look quite the same again.

They bunkered down at Ms. Rose's estate for the rest of the week. A week that Weiss had to admit she rather enjoyed. No responsibilities, no mental or emotional hardship, just a happy little family.

Just a happy family...

It had been a good week, but after an apology from Blake that sounded more like a dog hacking up its own lungs, rather than any sort of heartfelt plea for forgiveness, they were forced to be on their way.

She had a fiancée to meet after all.

Speaking of new men in her life...

There he was, standing vigil by the entrance to the room, his face hidden snuggly behind a balaclava mask and Atlas helmet.

She had argued with him, of course, about him donning that mask and helmet once again. She hated it, truth be told, but after he brought up that night in the restaurant she was forced to capitulate, resulting in the dehumanized CAB Operative that plunged against the wall silently, his azure blue eyes hidden behind a pair of ballistic goggles that ensured the near-complete separation of humanity between the agent and the man who dwelled just under the black, blues, and grays of that damnable SDC uniform.

"Jaune?"

Her sentinel shifted, his head turning ever so slightly over in her direction.

"Hmm?"

"Your opinion?"

"On the dress?" Jaune's voice was muffled behind the thick fabric of the balaclava, "I'm sure your fiancée will appreciate it."

"I'm not asking him. I'm asking you."

"You look beautiful."

Weiss gave a curt nod, turning back to the mirror.

She hated everything about this.

The gnawing pit in her stomach hadn't gone away since returning home. It was as if, for those brief few days, she had been relieved of some ever-present weight upon her shoulders. She had never even spared a passing thought to it before. She had long adapted to the social pressures placed upon her, but now? Now it was...so much more noticeable.

"I still don't understand."

"What?"

"This marriage is a just a loosely disguised business deal," Jaune clarified as he pushed himself off of the wall, strolling over to loom behind the heiress, "So why the formalities? Why the introduction dinner? Why this upcoming engagement party?"

"My parents will be throwing the party," She gingerly ran her fingers through her hair, "Because it's tradition."

"Never pegged your family to care much about tradition."

Weiss felt her eyebrow tug up at that, "I'm participating in a marriage arranged by my parents. That's rather traditional; wouldn't you agree?"

Jaune shrugged.

"You don't."

"I do."

"No... I mean you don't agree with the custom." Weiss clarified, "The way you asked me about it in the car a few weeks ago, it's clear you resent the idea."

"Guess I'm more used to Faunus traditions, now." Even if the idea of arranged marriage was a bit archaic, even to the citizens of Atlas.

"Do the Faunus practice arranged marriage at all?"

"Pff, nah." Jaune's snigger was clearly audible, even behind his balaclava, "The Faunus are polar opposites of Atlesians in that regard."

"How so?"

"They value a more communal existence." Jaune rotated his wrist casually, "Think've it like how we all live with Ms. Rose. A big family."

Just a happy family...

"Sounds like pack mentality." Weiss pointed out.

"I guess." Jaune admitted, "But it works. I prefer it."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I mean... It's like-..." He hesitated as he struggled to snatch up the right words from the ether, "It's hard to explain. We each value our individuality, and our right to be the person we want to be, but at the end of the day we know that, no matter what, we have people that we can turn to when we feel alone- that have our back, no matter what."

"And you claim that to be different to Atlesian values? That we don't value individuality?" Weiss fought to keep the edge from her tone, "I intend to always be my own person. I am not just some Atlesian, I am a Schnee."

"You just contradicted yourself." Jaune countered, "Are you Weiss, or a Schnee?"

"Both." Weiss parried, "I may be Weiss, but I was born a_ Schnee_, and as such, I am burdened by a measure of responsibility that the average Atlesian is not."

"Sounds like you're being forced."

"It's my duty..." Weiss' words rang hollow, even to herself, "And I have every intention of fulfilling the responsibilities lain upon my shoulders to the best of my ability."

Like it or not...

"And that's precisely why I expect so much from you, Weiss."

Felt felt a chill run up her spine.

Jaune was the first to react, snapping to attention near-instantaneously, "Sir."

Weiss, meanwhile, was slow to face the newcomer as he confidently strode into the room, seemingly unconcerned with his brash interruption.

He was as pristine as ever, his snow-white hair and mustache as immaculate as the suit he had donned. How he was able to keep up such appearances, seemingly no matter the hour, Weiss would never know.

"How are things?" He inquired as he took Jaune's place behind Weiss, laying his ice-cold hands upon her shoulders.

"Progressing smoothly, Father." Weiss assured, doing her best to fight off the shiver that threatened to rush through her body like a frigid wind, "I assume this dress is suitable?"

"It will do."

The room was as silent as a tundra as Jacque stood there, casting a forlorn look down upon his daughter.

"I suppose there's no tactful way to put this." He began, prompting Weiss to finally relax her shoulders as she glanced up at the aging man.

"Father?"

"The night the riots began, we lost contact with Whitley and his bodyguard detachment."

Jacque plucked a sheet of crumpled paper from his coat pocket, clearing his throat as his eyes scanned the words for what was no doubt the umpteenth time.

"We've...received confirmation by way of a ransom note that he has been kidnapped by the White Fang this morning. The note was attached to the computer screen in my office." Jacque explained, "They have demanded that I shut down production of our latest fighter model and that our Vacuo factories halt production."

He crumpled the paper in his fist, breathing steadily through his nostrils.

"And if we do not comply, then they've assured me, in no uncertain terms, that we would be made to pay for our hesitation."

At those words, Weiss felt her heart begin to beat at a million miles per minute. Whitley had been kidnapped and the culprit had apparently been skulking around in her father's office.

Which brought up a distinctly frightening realization. They were so entrenched in the SDC that they had been able to access the office of the chairman unnoticed.

Only family members and trusted business associates would ever be granted passage to such a private area of the Schnee Corporation. If they were able to gain covert access to something as precious as her father's office, then there was no telling what else- where else- they might have unimpeded access to.

"So then what are we planning to do?" Weiss asked, struggling to keep the panic from her voice.

"Yes, well..."

Her father strode across the room, gazing out the window unto the neon cityscape that loomed below.

"_You_ will be doing nothing."

"Excuse me?"

"While the disappearance of your younger brother is certainly a tragedy, I hope that you'll be able to look past that tonight. This _is_ an important event, after all."

"What?!"

"Neptune Vasilias expects to be meeting a stunning, young bride-to-be, full of life and potential." Jacque's fingers feverishly tapped against the frame of the bedroom window, "Not an anxiety-ridden sister."

"So I'm to just ignore the news you've brought me?!..."

"Precisely." Jacque's patience had clearly grown thin, his temper hanging from the frayed end of his last nerve, "Your elder sister made it quite clear that if I did not inform you as soon as I could, she would do so herself, but that does _not_ mean that you've permission to botch this meeting for the sake of sentimentality."

Jaune frowned under his balaclava as he observed the exchange silently.

Sentimentality? That's how Jacque classified something as serious as a sibling being clasped in the chains of bondage against his will, taken from his family?

To top it off, now he was admonishing his daughter for daring to show such concern for her brother- such...weakness. He saw it as weakness. Of this, Jaune was nearly positive.

"But I—"

"Let me make myself clear." The aging man whirled to face his daughter, his brow creased, "You _will_ be on your best behavior tonight."

Weiss could have just about flawlessly passed as a deer in a truck's headlights as she stared up at her incensed father.

"I already have enough to deal with, without my youngest daughter stirring up trouble." Jacque cracked the back of his hand against his open palm, "The protests are entering their 6th straight week, and production is down across nearly every factory we have, and that's to say nothing of the escalating violence and vehement property destruction those mangy animals have been so callously indulging in."

Weiss could only nod along.

"You will be the exception to these disappointments. You will not prove to be a nuisance." Jacque growled; a ferocious gargoyle staring down upon a hapless child far below him, "Have I made myself clear, Weiss?"

"...Yes, Father."

"Excellent." Jacque whirled on the heel of his shoe, striding towards the door, "I shall take my leave, then. I expect to hear of a fortuitous meeting between you and the Vasilias boy."

Jacque offered Jaune a curt nod as he strode by, only to halt just outside of the young heiress' room.

"As you said yourself, my dear..." Jacque mumbled as he disappeared down the hall, "We all have our roles to play. Our responsibilities. Do not fail in yours."

With that, Jaune pulled the bedroom door shut with a barely audible 'click' before sparing a pitiful glance back at his charge.

So much for the talk of responsibility. Right now, the only thing Weiss looked like she could responsibly handle was a bucket.

"...Jaune?"

At her beckon he came, laying a gloved hand upon her shoulder.

It was so warm compared to her own father's, despite the layer of fabric separating their skin.

"I'm sorry..."

"How do I do this?..." She pulled herself onto shaky feet. "How am I supposed to go out there, and meet with Neptune after hearing that?"

Jaune cast his back towards the sealed bedroom door, his eyes narrowing, "Something isn't right."

"What do you mean?"

"The White Fang don't aim for something as...corporate as production delays and factory closures."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm not sure, something just feels off..." The blonde murmured quietly as he turned back to the heiress, "If they wanted to shut down a factory, they'd rile the populace into a frenzy and do it themselves."

"The White Fang are hardly above kidnapping." Weiss pointed out, "I told you-..."

"I know. But, in the past it was for some sort of political or social gain. It was never for some sort of industrial objective."

"Perhaps they're just changing their end goal."

"No. The White Fang is dogmatic." Jaune argued, "Changing the end goals of an organization like that takes something major. They've only ever wanted equality..."

Jaune trailed off as he began to rhythmically tap his rifle, his eyes set like stone as he took in a long breath. Something just...wasn't adding up.

"I'm hesitant to ask this, as it would be cutting into the dinner Neptune and I are to share," Weiss began, catching the blonde's attention, "But would it be possible for you to stand guard by the balcony tonight?"

"I'll be in the next room over."

"I know, but-..." Weiss smacked her rapidly chapping lips, "After Whitley..."

Was it? Was it really because of Whitley?

...Of course it was! Of course it was because of Whitley! Why else would she need her _guard_ there?

"Alright. I'll post up on the balcony; least until my replacement arrives." Jaune conceded, "I'll let Cardin know."

* * *

"Yeah. Thanks, Bun. See y'soon...love y'too."

"So?..."

"No dice. Checked with all of her old friends in the Menagerie Military, and none of them have any information on Whitley. They didn't even know about it." Cardin grumbled as he pocketed his phone, "She even went and contacted some current Fang members, and all've them said the exact same thing. They've got no idea what's going on".

"And she doesn't think they're lying?" Jaune asked, leaning against a nearby wall.

"They've got no reason to lie to Velvet." Cardin replied, "Maybe to one of us, but definitely not to her."

"Damn... Wanna hit the bar tonight? See if we can get any info from-..."

Jaune's words snagged upon the tip of his tongue as he suddenly found a bright blue sash of glittery cloth tossed carelessly into his arms.

"Hold this!"

"Huh?! Okay!"

It was the same portly man from before, Klein, if he remembered correctly. He had been a real champion over the last few days, near-singlehandedly organizing Weiss for the upcoming celebrations. Honestly, at least in Jaune's eyes, he seemed more of a parent to Weiss than her own father did.

Of course, singlehandedly preparing a young woman to meet her future husband was far from a simple endeavor. Downright stress-inducing, really.

And judging from the bags under the poor man's eyes? He was feeling each and every ounce of it.

"Honestly, I can't get good help around here nowadays." Klein griped as he set about smoothing out the sash in Jaune's grip, very nearly slapping the fabric from the poor blonde's arms in the process, "How am I supposed to get Miss Schnee ready for such an important occasion tonight when the only assistance I can seem to locate are you two?!"

"Sir, with respect, we aren't—"

"Oh, but where are my manners? You two seem leagues better than I had expected. Truthfully I was hesitant to see a horde of armed thugs patrolling 'round the manor." Klein gave the two a quick '_harrumph_', "But you've both done a stupendous job so far. Why I don't think I've seen Miss Schnee smiling with such fondness for the better part of 2 years."

"That's nice, Sir, but we aren't here to make her smile, we're—"

"I must be off to retrieve Miss Schnee! Keep up the fantastic work!"

Like a flash, the man disappeared down the hall as quickly as he had arrived, leaving the two young men in stunned silence.

"What the hell was that?..." Cardin finally asked, glancing back to his companion.

"I 'unno." Jaune shrugged.

"Maybe working for the Schnees for long enough just drives you off the deep end." Cardin hypothesized, earning a hearty laugh from the blonde.

"If I start walking around calling things 'stupendous', you have permission to punch me in the throat."

"You start callin' things 'stupendous' and I ain't_ waiting_ for permission."

Jaune could only continue to laugh at his friend's words. How true his statement would have been only a few years ago...

"I'm glad to see that you two are having fun."

Both young men snapped their gaze back towards the hall that Klein had disappeared down, only to find themselves grasping uselessly in the air for words.

Words to describe _her_.

There she stood, like a seraphic maiden of the snow. A shoulder-less pale blue dress that hugged her petite form, with a plethora of silver jewelry and that same sash from before completing the entire ensemble. Her hair was no longer bound in its usual offset ponytail, instead hanging freely from her shoulders, the strands glittering gently in the harsh light of the hallway, thanks to the almost ridiculous amount of hair glitter that Klein had no doubt sprinkled on to give the outfit that one last one-two punch that it needed to knock nearly any man dead.

Once again as he stared over at her in awe, Jaune realized just how different they were. Once again, the sobering reminder of just how unattainable she was weighed upon his heart like a solid lead brick.

"Are you ready?"

Jaune and Cardin both nodded wordlessly.

"Very well..." Weiss sighed as her shoulders went rigid, "Nothing more to delay us, I suppose. Let's go and meet this fiancée of mine, shall we?"


	11. Chapter 11: Neptune

Blood in the Snow Chapter 11: Neptune

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**No idea why, but writing Neptune in this particular story is psychotically hard. Kind of a weird balance trying to keep the audience's view of him semi-cold, while also not making him a complete jerk. Ah, well. Enjoy!**

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Why did that stupid balcony table setup have to look so magical?

It seemed as if someone had gone and yanked a dinner scene straight out of some children's fantasy movie, complete with a near-perfect sunset just over the horizon.

The decorations adorning the table was far from subpar either. You name it, it was on that table. Silverware polished to a mirror shine, crystal goblets filled with some mysterious white wine, and a white and blue tablecloth that looked to be ripped right out of a luxury restaurant's stock.

Neptune had yet to appear, leaving Weiss to stare out into the sunset as Jaune took position by the entrance to the balcony, his hands idly tapping against the side of his MK18.

Of course, if either party had been harboring some secret desire for the young Vasilias boy to neglect the appointment, those hopes were swiftly quashed by the echoing slam of the doorway just past the curtains leading inside; a blue-haired young man, dressed in a suit that looked just a size too large for him, boldly striding through the satin divider as if it was little more than air.

"Well, well, well!"

He waltzed right past Jaune, giving the armed young man naught but a tertiary glance as he zeroed in on Weiss.

"I'd like to say I found the right place, but I was promised dinner with a princess," The young man offered the heiress a not-so-subtle wink, "Not an angel."

"You're too kind." Weiss forced a giggle between her chapped lips as she held her hand out before the bluenette, "Neptune, I presume?"

"You assume correctly, Snow Angel."

Jaune fought the urge to walk off on the spot as Neptune dramatically accepted Weiss' hand, placing a soft kiss upon her pristine knuckles like the Prince Charming he was trying _far_ too hard to be.

"And I presume to be in the presence of the ever-so-elegant Weiss Schnee?" If his little 'greeting kiss' had been dramatic, then the bow he offered was just downright theatrical.

"You would." Weiss forced out another laugh as she motioned to the armored man, still standing in silent vigil next to the railing of the balcony, "And this is one of my two personal guardsmen; Jaune Arc. The other is just in the hall."

"Jaune, huh?"

Neptune was in front of the man in a flash with an extended hand and a shining grin.

"Nice t'meet'cha, dude!"

Jaune accepted the hand without complaint, nor verbal reciprocation, watching with mild satisfaction as the bluenette's smile faltered slightly.

"...Not talkative, eh? I can dig it."

Holy hell, was this guy serious?

Neptune turned to Weiss, his smile returning full force as the duo strode over to the table, taking their respective seats.

"So does this dude like...live here with you, or?-..." Neptune trailed off as he plucked his drink from the table, taking a tentative sip.

"It's optional. At first, we considered requiring it, but that was dropped after some consideration."

"Does he ever get a day off?"

"Of course. They all do. We Schnees are fair employers, after all."

Blake would probably have a thing or two to say about that.

"They receive weekends off, bar any significant issues or outlying circumstances." Weiss explained, her eyes trailing back to Jaune for but a moment, "A 'B Team' takes over duties on the weekend, and agents rotate every 12 hours on weekdays."

"Nice." Neptune's own attention shifted to the guard, "So, I guess you're off after this, eh?"

"...Yessir."

"Hey-y-_y_! There's that '_hello_' I was lookin' for!"

Weiss audibly cleated her throat, redirected the bluenette's attention back to his fiancée, "Shall we?"

"Of course, Snow Angel."

Jaune let out an inaudible sigh as he watched the two continue to chatter away about this thing and that. Truthfully, he found it hard to hold any real animosity for the young man, despite the circumstances.

Neptune was merely a young heir to a large company, the same as Weiss. If he had any ulterior motives behind his jubilant antics- which Jaune was quickly beginning to suspect was beyond him- they were well masked, at the very least.

Still, it did nothing to alleviate the anxiety building up in Jaune's chest as he observed the two from the corner of the balcony, his fingers nervously drumming against the side of his rifle.

"So, your father mentioned that you've already a bit of experience dealing with the harrows of corporate life," Weiss began as she ran her finger along the rim of her glass.

"That I do," Neptune confirmed.

"I must admit, I was astounded to hear that. I'd been under the impression that I was the only one that was made to run that gauntlet at such a young age." The heiress continued, "Tell me, how do you cope with it day t'day?"

"Eh, I just go with the flow, I guess." Neptune shrugged casually, "Never really thought much about it. Suits ask me questions an' I answer them."

Weiss felt her eyebrow tug up at that one. That was certainly a unique approach to dealing with the harrows of corporate life.

"I..see?" She stuttered, fumbling to regain control of the conversation, "So, do you enjoy any particular extracurricular activities?"

"I like t'party, if that's what you're asking."

"Party?"

"Yeah!" He casually rotated his wrist, "You know, clubbing, dancing, drinking?-..."

"I...can't say I share the sentiment for such things, but to each their own, right?" Weiss struggled to keep the smile hooked onto her lips. Of course, he was a party boy. No wonder he seemed so carefree; he probably had no more _meaningful_ involvement in the company than Klein did in the SDC!

"You got it!" Neptune's laugh was boisterous. Loud. Perhaps not irritating, but it certainly betrayed the lack of tact the young man possessed.

Weiss stole a glance towards Jaune as Neptune chortled on, only to find that her sentinel had not moved an inch. It was as if he were a statue, only his drumming fingers pattering against his rifle betraying his humanity.

"So, Snow Angel..."

She snapped her gaze back to the bluenette, arcing a brow at the trepidatious expression adorning his tanned features.

"My dad wanted me t'ask you about your name."

Oh, fantastic. Her surname again.

"I plan to keep it, if possible." She replied, the edge in her voice clear, "It's paramount that I retain my family name. While others may be able to change their name on a whim, I hardly have that same luxury bestowed upon me. Schnee isn't your average name, and so to simply discard it would be-..."

"That's fair."

"And-... What?"

"You don't want to."

"Aren't...you going to try to convince me?" Weiss found herself hesitating as she took in the young man's response.

"He asked me to find out if you'd be changing your name." Neptune somehow seemed more casual than ever as he paused to take a sip of his wine, "Far as I'm concerned, I asked, you answered."

"...I see."

"Sorry if you were expecting some long-winded speech." Neptune hummed, "It just ain't my style."

You could say that again.

Weiss' eyes trailed back to Jaune as she struggled to recollect her thoughts.

How on earth he could stand there for so long, so quietly was so different to the Jaune she remem—

"You keep lookin' over at the guard."

"H-huh?"

"You keep checkin' out to see if Jaune's grown a second head." Neptune tilted his head curiously, "Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine!" Weiss winced as she realized she had gone and practically screamed in the poor bluenette's face, "Yes... Everything's fine. I'm just checking to see if the replacements have arrived yet."

"Ohhh," Neptune thankfully seemed more or less unfazed by the heiress' outburst, "Yeah, guess we don't need- uh, John or whatever- t'be here longer than he's gotta be."

Truth be told, she would really rather he stay.

"Hey, dude!"

Jaune finally shifted around, turning a few degrees to meet Neptune's gaze.

"What're you up to after this?"

"Probably'll be hitting the Jackdaw with a few friends," Jaune answered honestly, earning a curious look from both heir and heiress.

"The Jackdaw?" Jaune felt the cotton build in his mouth as Neptune hummed carefully, "Isn't that the seedy bar down in the Blackstone District, where all of the Faunus hang?"

"...It is."

"Huh," Neptune could not seem to resist the grin from crawling onto his face, "Well, have fun; throw one back for me!..."

Jaune offered a curt nod, exhaling softly.

"Erm, Neptune?" Weiss finally mumbled, pulling the young man's attention back to the woman.

"Oh, right! Apologies Snow Angel." Neptune leaned forwards, very nearly knocking his wine glass with his elbow, "So...tell me 'bout yourself."

As Weiss and Neptune continued to chatter away with each other, Jaune wiled away the minutes staring up at the rapidly darkening skies, until eventually a soft tap against his shoulder drew him from his stupor.

A flash of pink amongst a sea of black overtook Jaune's vision as he turned to face the newcomer, a grin crawling onto his face as Ren came into view, silently stepping through the satin divider.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here," Jaune whispered as Ren took his place beside him.

"Winter requested I personally relieve you," Ren replied.

"Alright. I'm boltin', then." Jaune shrugged, "She wants us on the balcony. Cardin's letting his replacement know as well."

Ren nodded, taking Jaune's place on the balcony as the man in question silently slinked off past the curtain, disappearing into the bowels of the manor without so much as a word.

The dinner had dragged on after Jaune's departure for the better part of half an hour. Half an hour of stilted conversation peppered with a slew of awkward jokes on Neptune's part.

At some point, the cooks had delivered some paltry servings of soup to tide them over, but any substantial sustenance had yet to appear before them, forcing Weiss to down a generous amount of wine as she listened to Neptune regale her with tales of celebrations past.

It was for this reason perhaps that Weiss found herself wordlessly praising the heavens when the bluenette's phone began to erratically vibrate in his pocket, prompting him to fish it out with all the skill and grace of a drunkard.

It took only a moment for the smile to dip from his face as he glanced down at the screen, a flash of irritation crossing his features.

"I'm really sorry, but I gotta jet." He apologized as he offered the alabaster-haired woman an uneasy smile.

"What?!..."

"Dad." Neptune shrugged as he pulled himself to his feet, wriggling around haphazardly as he readjusted his comically oversized suit, "He's goin' off about something. Just gonna go make sure he doesn't have an aneurysm."

"I-..."

...She what?

It wasn't like there was much more to talk about. Really, Neptune had done most of the talking for them both. It was practically a blessing in disguise, this call from his father.

"Nice meeting you, Snow Angel!" Neptune chuckled, giving the woman a wink, "Lookin' forward to our wedding!"

Like that, he was gone in record time, disappearing past the curtains of the balcony without so much as a wave.

That's right. The wedding. She had somehow almost forgotten that she was supposed to be marrying the bluenette. How strange a thought. In just a few weeks, she would be getting married. Shopping for a wedding dress, putting together her speech, somehow convincing her father and elder sister to agree to a verbal armistice for a night.

She would have to ask Jaune about how to deal with that last-...

That last...

"Where's Jaune?"

Ren shifted awkwardly in his gear, "He left about 15 minutes ago, Miss."

Right. His shift.

15 minutes ago, though? Not only had she missed him sneaking out, but she had somehow failed to notice his absence for a quarter of an hour now. Rather embarrassing, in all honesty.

He was probably long gone by now, probably just entering the Blackstone District-... As was his right. He was off the clock. As far as Weiss was concerned, he didn't exist right now. He was just a guard.

"I'm going after him."

He was just a guard!

"I assumed as much." Ren's Tone would have come off as almost smog if he didn't have such a perpetually disinterested air about him.

No. Not disinterested. Calm.

"Are you going to follow me?" She asked cautiously as she approached the curtain, pulling one end aside as she stared the man down.

"It would certainly be the _responsible_ thing to do." He replied honestly.

"..."

"Not to worry," Ren let a subtle smirk flash across his face as he pulled out his phone, suddenly growing extremely interested with the screen's contents, "I've a close friend who's taught me a thing or two about shirking responsibility, every once in a while."

Weiss let a grin of her own manifest as she gave the young man a nod of appreciation.

"The Faunus District is at least a 20-minute drive from here. I'd wager that if I somehow lost sight of you, it would take me a while to figure out where you'd gone." Ren's tone was as even as ever, his fingers swiftly tapped against the brightly flashing screen, "If you're forced to rely on public transportation, try to wear a hood."

Weiss needed no further convincing, scampering off without another word, the starter of her meal left forgotten.

It was only once he was sure that she had indeed gone off in search of her friend that Ren let out a soft sigh, pocketing his phone. He perched himself against the railing of the balcony, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I hope you're right about those two, Ma'am."


	12. Chapter 12: Blackstone District

Blood in the Snow Chapter 12: Blackstone District

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**Bit of a shorter chapter this time around. Originally I was planning to make this scene and the next chapter's scene link up together but then I realized it would probably work better as two separate chapters. Nothing too much else to say, so I won't hold you back. Enjoy the chapter!**

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This had been a horrible idea, Weiss concluded.

How the heck was she supposed to spot that stupid blonde mop in the mire of such a densely populated district of Atlas? And the Faunus dominated district, no less.

She could have sworn she caught more than a few vitriolic glares thrown in her direction. She was in unfriendly territory here, and she had opted to come without so much as a feather of protection.

If there was one thing she knew, it was how to be fast but thorough in whatever she did, and that included combing the Blackstone District for a crummy old bar, even with the sparse few details she knew of it. Even if 'combing the Blackstone District' meant desperately dragging up the bar's address from her phone's search engine, before ever-so-calmly rushing towards the alleged address like the proper young lady that she was.

Rushing. Not dashing; rushing. And no one was there to say any differently.

Eventually, though- much to her relief- she finally found herself standing warily outside of an old, rundown hole-in-the-wall; a dingy little place, no more fit for a Schnee than the dirt under her feet.

But in that moment? In that moment surrounded by the dark, with only the occasional streetlight to illuminate the slums that surrounded her? It might as well have been a fortified bunker, ready to defend her from the unknown.

That sense of safety immediately drained from her bones the moment she stepped inside.

Something in the dingy little place smelled distinctly of ammonia, and it looked just about as clean as it smelled. Not one inch of this place lived up to the usual caliber of decency that she had grown oh-so-accustomed to. Dirt lined the edges of the floor, with spots of rust lining the ancient-looking barstools, all topped off by a host of clientele that all looked like they had gone and dragged themselves in from the proverbial coal mines.

And they were all staring at her.

"Uh, good evening?"

Every single figure seemed to twitch violently at her voice breaking the stagnated silence that permeated the establishment like a rock sailing through a window.

"I'm searching for a young man. Tall, blonde, scraggly." Weiss continued, doing what she could to ignore the vilifying stares that she caught, "Would any of you happen to-..."

"Get out."

"E-excuse me?!..."

"You heard me. Out."

The man at the bar was the offender. A well-built man, about in his 30s, standing there with a larger scowl on his face than most of the other faces littering the old, crumby bar.

"I'm just looking for a friend of mine." Weiss attempted to reason.

"Then look somewhere else." The man slammed her hand against the counter, jabbing a finger towards the door, "There's nothing here for you, Schnee."

So, he recognized her?

Weiss' eyes settled into a glare of their own. No, this man didn't recognize her specifically, he just recognized her family. Her family again. No one saw her, they saw her damn family, looming in the background.

How typical.

"I just want-..."

"Atlas is so much like an apple."

Weiss found herself strapped for words as a new man- a younger man with striking crimson hair and a rather ridiculous looking black leather coat- pulled himself to his feet, stalking over like a hungry wolf ready to pounce upon its unfortunate victim.

"An...apple?..."

"It's on the surface, it's sweet. A tart, sweet place that shimmers brightly in the light. But if you dig too deep, all you find is poison." The red-haired man muttered bitterly, "A poison that we're exposed to each and every day. You Schnees, in your towers of silver, never have the desire to gaze down unto the masses below..."

He only stopped once he was close enough that Weiss could smell the alcohol wafting from his breath.

"Because you know exactly what you'll see." The Faunus growled, sending spittle against the heiress' cheek, "Us. Forced to swallow your poison."

"You aren't swallowing any poison of mine." Weiss hissed back, unperturbed by the man's hostility, "I'm not like the rest of my family."

"Oh? And why's that?"

"I'm standing here, aren't I?"

"What? Is that supposed to prove that you're better?" He seized her by the front of her dress, seemingly unconcerned with where his hand landed, "Listen, you holier-than-thou bitch, if you don't—"

"Hey."

The entire bar froze as a splash of blonde slowly rose from the corner of the bar. The same splash of blonde that she had spent the better part of an hour searching for, no longer in his armor, but in a ridiculously worn sweater and ripped jeans that looked as if they cost less than the mug he was hovering over.

"Just...just leave it..."

"Jaune?" The entire establishment seemed to shift their collective gaze onto the blonde as the crimson-haired man released his hold upon the heiress, "You know her, man?"

"Yeah, she's-..." He hiccuped.

"This your girlfriend or somethin'?"

"Nah," Jaune visibly waved off the notion, his other hand nursing an empty mug, "Just a friend."

Why did it feel like a lance was shoved into her chest?

She glanced back at the man who still loomed over her like a predator, "Why am I a problem, but Jaune—"

"Jaune," The man interrupted, "Doesn't give a damn. He and his friend don't give a damn what we are, so we don't give a damn what they are. But, you? You're a Schnee."

Ah, so _that's_ what it sounded like when someone used your name as an insult.

"I'm _Weiss_."

"You're a cun—"

"Can we _please_ break this up already?" Jaune interrupted, finally swirling around on his stool to face the two, "I'll watch her. Don't worry."

"Fine."

The man sulked back to his table without further complaint, leaving Weiss free to stride up in impeded to her bodyguard, arms crossed.

"Jaune."

"Why are you here?"

"Searching for you." Weiss replied as she snatched up the seat next to him, "Which I'm finding is beginning to become an irritatingly common occurrence, I might add."

"Where's Neptune?"

"He departed for the evening."

"He left?"

"His father requested his presence." Weiss clarified as she leaned against the bar countertop, "I didn't overhear their conversation, but it seemed dire."

"That doesn't explain why you're here."

"I told you; I was looking for you. You left."

"I'm off."

"You promised you'd stay."

"I promised I'd guard you from a more defensible position." Jaune idly tapped the rim of his empty glass against the ancient-looking wood of the table, "That meant 'I'll guard you until my relief shows'."

"There were extenuating circumstances."

"What 'extenuating circumstances'?"

"My brother was just kidnapped!"

"If you wanted me to stay past my shift, why didn't you say anything?"

"I did."

"You asked me to stay on the balcony while you ate." Jaune rebutted, "Not to stay _past_ my usual shift."

Weiss felt a pout tug at her lips, "That's-..."

"And so in response, you come looking for me, and toss yourself into a bar full of Faunus?"

"I was looking for you!"

"I just said that." Jaune turned back to his drink, only to find his mug as dry as bone, much to his chagrin.

"Do I have to slap you again?!"

"Do _you_ really have to be so loud?..."

It was not Jaune's voice that countered her threat. No, in his place was the equally familiar tone of-... "Winchester?"

"Yo." Cardin, standing just in the corner of her view, offered up a casual wave, "I'd ask you what you're doin' around here, but I'm pretty sure the entire block knows by now."

Weiss' face went red as she finally seemed to grow cognizant to her screaming, along with the continued stares from all sides of the establishment.

What she also noticed, however, was the unmistakable profile of Velvet, hanging loosely on Cardin's arm.

She looked just about as happy as could be, a strange orange drink in one hand as she lovingly leaned against the ginger-haired young man.

Weiss hummed as she took in the sight that lay before her. She had harbored her suspicions, but-...

"Hey, Tuckson!" The man in question grinned, raising an alabaster eyebrow as he turned to Cardin, "More acetaminophen and anti-freeze for Jauney-boy an' I! Stat!"

Tuckson chuckled and swiped a few clean glasses from the rack, pouring a copious amount of vodka and some other blue drink into one, before sliding it down to Jaune.

Taking only a moment to offer a small nod to the blonde, Tuckson immediately set about the second, sliding it down to Cardin and Velvet, who both found seats next to Weiss.

"Um, I'll just take a Strawberry Sunrises, uh-... Sir." The heiress began, only to flinch as Tuckson whirled to face her, his lips set in a scowl.

"Smells t'me like you've already had enough, _Schnee_."

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you very much!"

"Fine? Fine." He rose to his full height, crossing his arms as he gazed down upon the diminutive woman, "Prissy drink for a prissy princess."

"I'm just as-... I!-... You!-..."

That's it.

"The same!"

...

The barman blinked.

"The same thing he had!" She clarified, jabbing her finger against the cheek of a protesting Jaune.

"You sure, Princess?" He laughed, "That wasn't any ol' Chardonnay."

"I can handle it!..."

"You don't sound so sure."

Weiss produced an SDC credit card, slamming it on the table with little regard to just how barbaric such an act was, her eyes blazing with defiance, "Does this look unsure to you?"

"Just looks like dirty money..."

"Not as dirty as this dump!-..."

"Children, no fighting." Velvet mumbled, never turning from her carrot juice.

...Carrot juice.

Way to go and smash that mold, Velvet, Weiss thought as she watched the rabbit Faunus sip away at her drink like a long-lost lover.

"Alright. Order up, cupcake."

A dull thunk assaulted Weiss' eardrums, yanking her attention back to the barman who stood there with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

If this were any other situation, Weiss would bet her bottom dollar he snuck a good bit extra alcohol into the drink in an attempt to 'teach her a lesson'. But this man? He didn't even have enough faith in her to think she couldn't handle something so trite after a glass or two of wine.

Just a glass or two.

She had only had a glass or two. She could handle whatever was in this stupid concoction.

The entire bar froze as she snatched the glass up, downing the liquid in one fell swoop, tears forming in her eyes as she desperately did what she could to ignore the burning sensation slithering down her throat.

"See? Easy!-... _Ulp_..."

"Smooth as butter, princess." Tuckson chuckled as he tauntingly dangled a bottle in front of her face, "Think you can handle another?"

"Can I handle another?!" Weiss grumbled as she pushed the glass back over to the man, "Of course I can! I'm a Schnee!..."

Of course she could! What weakling would be knocked out for the count by such a pedestrian drink? After all, she had only had one or two. She could handle just one more...

Just one more...

Just one mor-...


	13. Chapter 13: This Moment is Mine

Blood in the Snow Chapter 13: This Moment is Mine

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**Heya! College is kicking my butt right about now, as finals are in full swing, so apologies for the delayed post. Writing drunken dialogue is officially one of the hardest things I've ever had to do when it comes to writing. You'd be amazed just how confusing it can get. Oh well. Enjoy!**

* * *

Just one or two, right? Right.

That had been her intention from the start. Just one or two. Prove them all wrong. Prove that she could hold her drink just as well as any of them, and then cease any further indulgence.

Except...here she was- 5 drinks later- drunkenly stumbling alongside her bodyguard, leaning against seemingly anything able to support her weight for any more than a few sparse moments.

More often than not, it was her aforementioned companion.

"All'm sayin' is, it's weird," Jaune mumbled as he narrowly avoided a stray rock on the sidewalk, nearly plowing into Weiss in the process.

"This coming from the, uh-..." She trailed off for a moment as she herself nearly took a tumble, "The nerd who cried at the end of 'Galaxy Wars'."

"Hey! That was a timeless classic!" Jaune protested.

"You've got a pretty low bar for 'timeless classics'."

"You didn't even watch Galaxy Wars." He countered, waving his hand in the air dramatically, in a not too dissimilar fashion to her own dismissive wave.

"No, but you never stopped yammering on about it. I'm sure-... I'm sure I know more than enough to get by."

"You always told us that it was '_so childish_'."

"It _was_."

"Timeless. Classic."

Weiss couldn't help but roll her eyes. Soldier or not, the old nerdy Jaune was still alive and well in there. "At least it wasn't as bad as your strange obsession with that, uh-... What was it, again? X-something and Terra?

"X-Ray and Vav!"

"Pff.. Fanboy."

Jaune dramatically gasped, "You take that back."

"Make me, Galaxy Boy."

Both soon found themselves in snared within the throes of laughter, leaning against each other for support as they continued on their path.

Their laughter. It was the only thing she seemed to be able to focus on. Not the beginnings of a headache manifesting at the base of her neck, not the occasional passerby looking over them like a zoo-goer marveling at a pair of excitable animals, or even the harsh winter chill that bit at her skin. All she could focus on was their laughter. That melodic laughter. It was so rare for her to laugh nowadays.

...Had it ever been common, though?

It was only once that laughter had finally died down that Jaune spoke up again.

"You did well in there. Even Adam got off your back-...Front, whatever." Ah; Adam must have been the lovely red-headed gentleman without boundaries, then, "Maybe that...that whole 'Schnee with a Heart' thing we thought up has a fighting chance, after all."

"I don't know." Weiss lazily shrugged, blinking several times as she glanced up at him, "Didn't feel like much of a-... A... Whassit called?"

"Victory?"

"Yeah, that."

"You threw yourself into a pit of piranhas and all they did was nibble." Jaune laid a chilly hand upon her shoulder, "You should be...uh, proud of yourself."

"Of course I'm proud!..." Weiss practically oozed smugness as she slung her arms across her diminutive chest, "I'm as proud as a...proud!"

"Might be proud, but you're still light as a feather!..."

Suddenly she was in the air, squawking like a verklempt parrot as Jaune lifted her with an almost embarrassing amount of ease.

There was no debate that she was on the lighter side, even for people her height, but it never truly occurred to her just how strong he had become. He was nothing like the lanky goober she remembered.

Nothing at all.

"Hey, should we sit?..."

"Lightheaded?" Jaune's damnable smirk was back.

"Uh, yeah." Yeah, she was definitely feeling pretty lightheaded right about now.

"Sorry," His laughter sent a rush of embarrassment through her as he deposited her on the ground with all the care one would show a porcelain doll.

They soon found a suitable building wall along the vacant city street, both soldier and heiress lounging lazily against its freezing brick surface like the pair of alcohol-addled fools that they were.

As they sat there, Weiss idly found herself noting that they had stumbled their way near the edge of the district. Only blocks away lay the beginnings of the inner city; the wealthier districts.

How stark the contrast was.

No decaying structures, no cracked roadways, no caged up storefronts. All that could be seen was an almost otherworldly vibrancy. Lights, glamor, and glimmer as far as the eye could see, and it was only half a block away. Another world, so close, and yet so far.

The brightest lights truly did cast the darkest of shadows, didn't they?

Perhaps this is what Jaune meant when he that she should be the 'Schnee with a Heart'. The Schnee that would turn her sight from the light.

"So..."

"So..." Weiss found herself mimicking the young man as she grasped in the air for something- anything to break the awkward silence that had manifested between them, "Did you like him?"

"Who, Neptune?" Jaune hummed as he leaned his head against the stonework of the building, "He's alright, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Wasn't really paying too much attention." He pointed out, "He's _your_ fiancée."

"Might as well be a stranger..."

"Mmm..."

"What? Do you-..." Weiss shook her head as she fought away a wave of pre-hangover pain that shot through her skull, "Do you disagree?"

"No. But it's just interesting, hearing you say that."

"Why?"

"'Cause a few hours ago you went on a rant about, uh-...family duties." Jaune casually rotated his wrist as he droned on, "How, as a Schnee, you had to put your family before yourself."

"Maybe I'm done making...making decisions based on my family."

"Pretty brave words."

"What?" Weiss challenged, "You think I can't make choices for myself?"

"Sure doesn't seem like it whenever your father's around."

Well, that was a rather sobering statement.

"My father," The venom in her voice lasted for only a moment before reverting to a far more subdued- perhaps even tired- tone, "Is a man capable of laying low even the most confident individuals. He's a borderline sociopath. As far as he's concerned, his family are just assets to be employed in the furthering of his ambitions."

"You make him sound like a supervillain'r somethin'."

Weiss let out a humorless chuckle. He certainly fit the template, that was for sure.

"Still...I'm not one of his drones. I have my own free will."

"Yeah, guess you're right." Jaune agreed, resting an arm against a propped up knee, "A drone wouldn't be able to sneak out of a mansion in the middle've the night and stumble around the most dangerous part of the city for the better part of an hour, looking for an employee on his...his, uh, time off."

"You're my friend."

"So we're friends now?"

"Isn't that what you always wanted?"

A sigh escaped the blonde's lips as his eyes found themselves drawn once more to the heavens. The heavens that sparked dutifully in the night, even through the light pollution from the inner city, only a few hundred yards away.

"...The stars are out again."

Weiss glanced up, arcing a brow as she hummed, "Uh, yeah..."

"Have you ever wondered what it'd be like, to look down on the world like that?"

"Not really," What seemed at first like some cold quip quickly shifted tone as Weiss brought her knees up to her chin, "I've always had my head down. Down for work, down to maintain the ster...ster... Clean image of the Schnee family, and down because of him..."

"You don't look good like that."

"Excuse me?!..."

"With your head down. It's not very flattering." Jaune clarified with a warm grin, "You're much more beautiful when you smile."

Weiss could not seem to stop herself as a burst of warm laughter bubbled in the back of her throat, escaping in a steady stream of chuckles that promoted a look of genuine confusion from the blonde.

"What? Did I say something funny?"

"...Why couldn't you have been so charming back when we were kids?"

Jaune shrugged, his smirk in such stark contrast to his dejected tone, "Guess I just had to get shot at for a few years t'get the...the, uh, creative juices flowing."

Weiss' contented sigh echoed in Jaune's ear as she leaned her head gently upon his shoulder, "...Can I ask you something?"

"Seeing as how you're in punching range if I say no-..."

Weiss huffed in amusement, "I mean it."

"Yeah," Jaune relented, "What's up?"

"Do you wish it'd been you?"

"That 'what' had been me?"

"Having a mar-... marriage interview with me." Weiss stumbled through her words as the several drinks flowing through her system reminded her that they were still very much present- and yes- very much going to be punishing her for her foolhardy behavior in a mere few hours.

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

"Why?"

"Because-..."

Jaune sighed, "You don't get it..."

"What don't I get?"

"I chased after you for years... Each and every time I tried, you rejected me. Eventually, I just learned to...to get over myself." Jaune explained as Weiss stared up at him, "Wasn't easy. I mean, look at you. You're beautiful. In terms of looks, I got no problems with saying that we're lightyears apart."

"You're not ugly, Jaune."

"Compared to you, I am."

"That's one of the strangest-... Strangest...compliments!" Weiss shook her head, "It's one of the strangest ones I've ever had. Congratulations."

"'Cause of that- along with the frequent retaliatory assaults," He quickly added, "I realized that someone like, uh...you would never have feelings for a tall, blonde idiot like me. So I repressed my emotions, for your sake."

Weiss watched silently as Jaune reached up to ruffle his mane of blonde locks.

"In a weird way, I was glad when you left school because I didn't have to keep pretending anymore." He glanced back up to the stars, "And now that you're back in my life, I just-..."

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why did you come back, then?..."

"...Because I couldn't keep lying to myself."

Jaune suddenly felt a weight against his lap as Weiss appeared, her face inches from his own.

"Wh-..."

Weiss blew loudly, "You really are still an idiot."

Jaune was frozen for the longest time but eventually broke into a broken, tired grin, "Yeah... Guess I am."

Weiss offered a smile of her own, wordlessly laying a hand upon his cheek.

"Weiss, you're drunk."

"...I am."

He could feel her warmth radiating against his chest, so clear- so inescapably enrapturing- in the harsh chill of the Atlesian winter night.

"Tell me something," The heiress' breath was hot against his neck as she continued to close what little distance remained between them, "What were you hoping for, when you came back?"

"I don't know..."

"I think you do..."

Jaune closed his eyes, "You really aren't gonna let me deny it, huh?"

Weiss gingerly pressed her forehead against Jaune's, shaking it softly as an almost incoherent 'mhm' echoed from between her closed lips.

Lips that were close enough to touch.

"Weiss...why?"

"Because I want to."

"You're engaged."

"I don't give a damn."

Her blunt reply would have seemed so cold in any other situation. In any other situation, such a statement would have been accompanied by some harsh glare or swift belt of the hand.

In any other situation...but not now. No. All that accompanied her words was the look of pure relief.

Of a free spirit, revealing themselves.

"This life- this moment- is mine." Her voice fell to a strangled whisper as her eyes began to shimmer, "I'll choose what I-... I do with it."

"How altruistic."

"Maybe I feel like being selfish." Her arms were around his neck, pressing her lithe form against his own, "Just this once..."

"...This isn't a good idea."

"Then pull away..."

Jaune never found it so easy to disregard her words...


	14. Chapter 14: Deceived

Blood in the Snow Chapter 14: Deceived

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**Finals week, finals week, nothing says stress like finals week!**

** Hopefully now with the semester winding down, and winter break beginning I'll be able to focus a little bit more on the story- bar the obvious Christmas and New Year's Day junk. For any wedding dress experts out there, I sincerely apologize for this chapter. My expertise certainly doesn't lie in textiles, so I did what I could with a few Google searches and a number of articles. Anyways, we're coming up to the end of the second arc, with one more arc to go, so I hope that everybody is still enjoying the story as much as they have been. Enjoy!**

* * *

"I must thank you again for accompanying us on such a tedious task," Weiss repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time as she felt a pair of gentle hands help her into the sea of fabrics that made up the latest wedding dress to adorn her form in the last few hours, "Don't hesitate to let me know if there's anything I can do to repay-..."

"Oh, no need!" Summer's inviting laughter seemed to resonate positivity unrivaled throughout the room like a wave, even as she tugged at the laces of Weiss' gown, "This sort've thing is practically what mothers live for."

"Planning that far ahead already, eh?"

"Call it practice." It was clear that she was having trouble containing the mirth that dripped from each and every word that passed her lips, "Besides, your mother couldn't spare the time to see this for herself. Even if she doesn't have the time to spare, I sure do."

As Summer prattled on, Weiss stole a fleeting glance over at Jaune and Cardin, who had both claimed century spots by the doorway, rifles in hand, enthralled within the clutches of a conversation of their own.

It had been a week. A week since the night that they drunkenly stumble down the streets of the black stone district. A week since their lips had met in a heated moment that still played through her mind like a movie, resulting in an awkward air between her and Jaune so thick that an ax wouldn't be able to carve through.

Sure, they had spoken since that night. It was really unavoidable, what with her being his employer and all, though the joviality that had once thrived between the two- if only for a scant few days- had once again been cast into the void. shame and guilt-wracked through her like a violent storm, ready to tear her apart from the inside out.

"So, you think a ruffle skirt works, then?"

Summer's ever chipper tone worked wonders in chasing away the grey clouds, if only temporarily; just long enough to give her the mental foothold required to drag herself out of her rumination, back into the present.

"Yeah. The trumpet-style's a bit...plain, comparatively. Chances are you're only wearing this thing once, so going all out is kinda the name've the game." Weiss paused as a new question began to bounce through her noggin, "...What style did you end up wearing?"

"At my wedding?" Summer hummed, earning a nod from Weiss, "Nothing too special. Ball-gown style."

Meanwhile, as Weiss and Summer's conversation seemed to only descend further into detail, the pair of young men standing guard at the door entrance let out a collective sigh, each risking an exhausted glance at the other.

"Dude?"

"Hmm?"

"What're they talking about?..." Cardin idly scrolled through something or other on his phone as he grumbled away, "The hell's a trumpet dress?"

"Mm'nno..."

"Was that English?" He inquired.

"It was Jaunish." The blonde countered.

There was an awkward pause as Cardin clicked his tongue, the sound barely audible from under his mask, "...The thing that makes your skin go yellow'n shit?"

"That's jaundice."

"Explains the hair."

"I'll hit you."

"It won't hurt."

"Fair." Jaune leaned against the frame of the doorway, letting his firearm hang freely from its sling as he idly drummed the drywall, "Hey, is Velvet's turn to cook tonight?"

"Nah, Blake's."

"Great. So fish for dinner?" Jaune asked, earning an even laugh from his companion.

"Is it ever anything but fish with Bl—"

"Hey!"

Weiss' shrill cry summoned the attention of the two young men, who stared back at the alabaster-haired woman with wide eyes- even if those eyes were concealed under the hazy shade of their ballistic goggles.

"Wha?..."

"Can you two _try_ to take this seriously?" She hissed, prompting a small shrug from both sentinels.

"What the heck can we do?" Jaune finally mumbled, his voice betraying the endless boredom that coursed through his veins.

"Provide constructive feedback."

"We're covered from head to toe in body armor." Cardin rightfully pointed out as Jaune robotically nodded along, "Fashion ain't really our forte."

"Yeah, Cardin's right, we just-..."

"Don't listen to those two, they're dorks." Summer interjected as she finally stepped away from the heiress to admire the fit, "They wouldn't be able to give fashion advice if a department store truck hit them square'n the face."

"Can't argue with that," Weiss smirked, looking herself over in the mirror as she gently swirled around, her eyes taking in the cocoon of silvery white that seemed to shimmer and twinkle in the harsh light of the shop.

"So..." The silver-eyed woman inquired, "How's that look?"

"Amazing..." Weiss let out a breath, her eyes locked upon the endless shimmering expanse that was her wedding dress, "You've got a fantastic sense for fashion, Summer."

"Unlike those two buffoons." She agreed.

"At least they've the presence of mind to keep their eyes off of you while you're trying on dresses." A new voice echoed throughout the room with an aura of authority that would have sent a chill up the spine of any other person.

Any person but Weiss, who spun 'round, a glowing smile plastered upon her face, "Winter!"

"Forgive the interruption, I merely wished to visit my sister while she was trying on wedding dresses." The woman in question said as she strode into the room, acknowledging the two sentinels and Summer with a soft nod before returning her focus to her sister, "Not every day that you get to witness something so important."

"True enough," Summer piped up, extending a hand towards the older Schnee, "Summer Rose. I take it you're Weiss' older sister?"

"One'n the same. Weiss has mentioned you over our afternoon tea. She tells me that you have a daughter." Winter accepted the hand with all the grace and poise fit for a Schnee, though a playful grin tugged upon her face, clear as day, "I assume this is practice."

Summer couldn't contain her laughter as she glanced back at the heiress, "Great minds."

How infectious laughter could be, Weiss thought as she let a chuckle slip-free.

* * *

It was another few minutes, another few minutes of chatter and debates- along with a 'sisterly demand' or two- before Weiss finally found herself back out of her dress and into her usual attire once more. Winter and Summer, trailed closely by Cardin, had gone searching for some assistance in finalizing the purchase of the dress.

Unfortunately, that meant...

Her eyes trailed over to him, and all at once she felt a tension seize her heart. They had both made a considerable effort to not find themselves alone for any extended period of time. Being alone meant that they would need to bring up what had happened eventually, and she was relatively sure that neither of them was ready to face what happened.

And now here they were, locked in the exact situation they had both been putting in a gargantuan amount of effort to avoid.

Murphy's Law, right?...

"...Did you like it?" She finally tried, her voice barely above a soft whisper.

"Eh?"

"The dress." She clarified, "Do you like it?"

"Oh." Jaune grunted, suddenly looking extremely uncomfortable inside of his armor, "Uh, yeah-... Yeah, it was, uh-... It looked good."

"Do you think it will be suitable for the wedding?"

"I guess."

"Do you think I'll be able to dance in it?"

"I'm sure you'll be fine for the reception." Jaune replied as he awkwardly tapped on the side of his rifle, "It's mostly slow dancing- at least I think. The only wedding I was ever at was Tai and Sum's."

"Do you think you'll ever summon the nerve to have a normal conversation with me again?"

"I-...wait, what?"

"You've been behaving like this since we had that...'interaction'." Weiss clarified, tucking a stray silvery hair behind her ear, "We were drunk."

"I'm aware've that." He answered simply, clearly unwilling to meet her gaze despite the layer of colored plastic that separated his eyes from the world.

"Neither of us were in control of our actions." She pressed, finally finding a bit of the zeal she usually so casually wielded, "There's nothing to be ashamed of, I'm just as guilty as you are for what happened."

"That doesn't mean that it was any less unprofessional of me to do what I did."

"You weren't my bodyguard at the time. You were off duty."

"I know, but... what does it mean? For us?"

"...I'm not sure. But it can't mean anything more than-..." Weiss trailed off, her cloudy eyes finding the floor below them.

"Yeah... I agree..."

* * *

It was a tedious stroll back to the car. Certainly not a quiet one, no, but tedious nevertheless.

"They should make it illegal to park on the sidewalk like that." Summer idly said as they passed a small, beat-up looking car, parked not so subtly halfway up onto the sidewalk.

It certainly looked as if it had seen better days, Jaune idly noted as they drew closer to the poor old thing. Nothing remarkable; just a car a good few years past it's prime, with an old Menagerie flag sticker plastered upon the side-door, it's condition rivaling the car it clung to.

"It is." Winter assured as she sent a look of absolute ire towards the dilapidated machine, "Some people just have no sense of duty to obey the laws set before them."

"Was it out here when you arrived?" Jaune asked, resisting the urge to groan. Far be it from him to suggest to the woman to ignore a parking infraction, but judging from the state of the vehicle, whoever owned it was probably far and away past caring about something so trivial.

"No. If it had been, I can assure you that I would've reported it to the proper authorities by now." Winter's tone took on an almost schoolteacher-like air as she continued glowering at the vehicle, "Such behavior is unbecoming of Atlas citizens, and should be dealt with accordingly."

"Vindictive much?" Cardin mumbled.

"...Hey, what's that?" Weiss inquired as the group finally passed the old, beat up junker, her eyes are drawn towards the backseat where a pile of what seemed to be trash lay.

"Hmm?" Winter hummed.

"What's wha-... Hey, yeah..." Summer confirmed as she leaned in, pressing her face against the glass in an effort to take a closer look, "Something in there is...what the heck _is_ that?"

"I...think it's a-... That strange pot the manor's chefs make rice with." Weiss fumbled, doing her best to ignore the look of sheer disbelief on Winter's face, "That looks to be a ridiculous mess of wire, though. D'you think the extension cord is broken or something?"

Jaune felt his heart skip a beat.

"Did you say 'wire'?!..."

"Yeah, wire." Weiss confirmed, joining Summer I'm pressing their faces against the glass, "There's a whole bunch've wire wrapped around the—"

He rushed over, his heart pounding in his ears as the inside of the car swiftly came into view.

And what he saw set his blood to ice.

It was just as Weiss had described; a strange-looking cooking device surrounded by a mass of wire that could've very well been mistaken for the inside of a computer.

Only... That was no rice steamer...

It was a pressure cooker!—

He was just barely able to seize Weiss by the scruff of her neck and yank backward before his entire world was bathed in the light...


	15. Chapter 15: Aftershock

**Blood in the Snow Chapter 15: Aftershock**

* * *

**Happy New Years! Hope everyone has had an amazing holiday season so far. I won't keep you here, since there's more or less no news in regards to the story. Here's to an amazing new decade! Enjoy!**

* * *

The first thing that hit Weiss was the smell.

It was a foul stench; like burnt leather charring just under her nostrils, leaving the sweet mercy of fresh air to naught but her imagination. If she never had the misfortune of being assaulted by this horrid stench for the rest of her life, it would be far too soon.

Burning gasoline, perhaps?

No... No, gas didn't smell like that. Neither did metal...

"Goddamn car had'n IED!" Cardin- who was clumsily throwing himself off of Winter's unconscious form- called out with respectable gusto, despite the massive cloud of choking dust that filled the air, "You guys alright?!"

"Yeah, yeah!-... I'm alright." Jaune's voice echoed above her, perhaps only a foot or two away, "Are you two?—"

"Winter's out! She's breathing- no major wounds- but she'll need to get to a hospital ASAP!"

Winter? Winter was hurt?...

"Get her vitals— Hey! Hey, you!" Jaune's tone took on an authoritative tone that would have given a charging bull pause, "Call an ambulance!_ Now_!"

"A-alright!..." It was a voice that Weiss didn't recognize. Only once she pried her eyes open did she spy the man, a pudgy thing, hastily dialing for emergency services on his phone, with a healthy crowd of onlookers gathering around them all, like some sort of living wall, constantly drawing closer to the assailed group.

It was only a few moments more before tagged breathing tore Weiss's attention from the crowd, drawing it to her side, where she found a site that sent her stomach into a somersault.

Summer lay there, hand on her side as she desperately pressed against an open wound, doing what little she could to stymie the flow of viscous crimson that ebbed from her side. Her breathing was erratic to say the least, with tears flowing freely down her cheeks as she stared up at the sky, the shock clear in her eyes.

"Sum-..." Weiss' hand clawed uselessly in the air, her nails blacked with ash, "Summer..."

"Weiss?..." A pained gasp emanated from the wounded woman, her face confronted in agony, "Weiss, is?-... Ow..."

Her hand fell to her stomach, her silver eyes tearing up at the constant as an agonized groan slipped from her bust-open lips.

"Whew... Okay. Okay, yeah; this hurts!..." Summer struggled out as she finally let her head flop to the side, her misty eyes desperately scanning her environment, "Weiss...Weiss, is that you?"

Weiss tried to speak, she truly did, but when she attempted to summon forth even the smallest peep, she found her voice defiant.

It...must have been the dust. Her throat was probably clogged with dust.

But she could still move.

"I can't see. If you're there, I need-..." Summer trailed off as Weiss' pale, dust-covered finger drew across her face, prompting the young mother to let her silvery eyes finally take in the world around her, "Is that you?"

Her mouth opened, though just as Weiss seemed to find the barest spark of energy- just enough to let her voice pass from her lips- she heard shuffling behind her.

Jaune's blonde mop, matted with dust, popped into view, the young man skidding to a stop before her. There was naught but a second of silence as he glanced her over before diverting his attention to the young mother, his hand finding her stomach.

"Tai? Tai, is that?-..." Summer tentatively reached up with her bruised, bloody hand to rub his chin, leaving a crimson stain across his face, "H'okay, no annoying stubble. Not Tai. Still alive. That's good... That's good..."

Jaune shook his head, examining the wound as Summer shook her head back and forth, clearly still disorientated from the blast.

"It's not too deep... Nothing life-threatening. Looks like it just clipped flesh." Jaune leaned down using his free hand to still her bobbing head, "Can you hear me, Sum?"

"Did you-... Did you just ask that after a car-bomb went off in my face?"

"Can you hear me?" The blonde repeated, raising his voice ever so slightly, "Do you need—"

"Yes, Jaune. Obviously I can hear you..." A weak cough passed from her lips, "Now do me a favor?..."

"What?..."

"Get me a lottery ticket? I'm feeling luckier than usual today."

Despite the absolutely battered state she was in, she somehow summoned the humor necessary to summon up a sarcastic comment; garnering a well earned smirk from the heiress. It even looked as if just the slightest dash of mirth passed by Jaune as he let out a chuckle, pressing his hand against the wound once again, clearly intent on keeping pressure against it, "Maybe later."

It was then Weiss noticed the expression on his face. It was hidden so carefully..so carefully by someone who was clearly versed in masking their emotions. Their pain.

Unfortunately for him, she had been trained to see through masks. Facades.

...And judging by the look on his face he was almost certainly bathed in agony. No wounds were present that Weiss could plainly see, but nevertheless, it was clear that Jaune was suffering. Badly.

"Jaune?..."

"I'll be with you in a sec, Weiss, I just-..." Jaune's voice was swiftly interrupted by an oncoming siren, it's piercing wail cutting through the haze like a blade through flesh, "Finally..."

In mere moments Weiss' senses were assaulted by a flurry of reds, whites, and blues. Flashing lights, screeching sirens, and barking orders.

The paramedics rush out in some well coordinated flurry, immediately pushing Jaune away as they surrounded both Summer and Weiss, a cascade of questions flying at them both as they were gingerly lifted onto stretchers.

Not exactly the same calming air that Jaune had exuded, but never mind.

At least everyone would be alright...

* * *

Jaune felt his stomach finally settle as he stared out at street that lay before him, sitting up on the edge of the sidewalk. He seemed unconcerned with the thick layer of dust upon the pathway that marred his clothing, opting instead to focus upon the still smoldering heap of metal that once been little more than a dilapidated, old car. Something that would have been barely worth a footnote's footnote to the average person.

Something that would be added to the ever growing list of horrific memories he would never forget.

"Hey, man..."

Jaune glanced up, taking in the image of his ginger-haired friend standing there, holding a pair of soda cans- one of which held out towards him.

"Hey..."

"Soda?"

"...Thanks." Jaune accepted the soda with a hollow smile, his glazed eyes barely focusing upon the glitzy metal surface of the surgery soft-drink.

"We got lucky," The ginger mumbled after what felt like an eternity, "All things considered, at least. Winter and Summer both received tertiary wounds, but they'll both pull through pretty easily. Medics said the only thing Weiss suffered from is shock. so at least we can say that we did that part of our job correctly."

"We didn't," Jaune replied simply, his fingers idly tapping the edge of his can, "Summer did. I felt her jump out've my grip towards Weiss at the last moment."

Cardin paused, bringing his own soda up to his lips as he stared out over the remains of the devastation that was hastily being swept away by a cleanup team. Every bit of evidence belying sorrow, all the signs of destruction, brushed under the theoretical rug.

"She really is Tai's wife, huh..."

Silence fell between them as the world chugged on all around them, seemingly ignorant of the two soldiers sitting there. City birds chirped happily, the faraway sounds of angry traffickers, even the faint sound of music, emanating from the inner sections of the city. It stood in such stark contrast with the mangled metal and crimson-stained dust that was being so efficiently cleared away- scrubbed from existence.

...If only it were that simple.

"Talk t'me." Cardin's voice broke the deathly silence that had fallen between the two men, his own hollow gaze snapping towards his friend.

"Why?" Jaune's tone was blunt. Lifeless. No harsh edge or underlying venom. No- just pure exhaustion.

"You know why..."

"It's got nothing to do with him."

"You're good, then?"

"No. No, I'm not," The soda in his hand fell from his limp grip, landing sideways upon the dusty pavement with an unceremonious 'thunk', "Why would I be 'good'?"

It was all he could do to hold himself together as Cardin's arm slumped around his shoulders, giving the blonde a reassuring pat.

"Fuck..."


End file.
